True Self
by SniperGirl0907
Summary: When the Autobots discover Soundwave is still alive, they take the opportunity to learn all the Decepticons most prized secrets. But when the Decepticon spy-master is finally revived, it becomes clear that something is very amiss. Chapter 5 of the Tomorrow Is Forever Coming saga: Soundwave & OC centric.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers: just my OC's & the plot.

* * *

TRUE SELF

PROLOGUE

Somewhere in the western Sierras, 1:07am:

"Slag!" Barricade cursed under his breath as he ran hell for leather over the rocky ground: too steep and too jagged for his altmode to run on. It had hours since he left civilization behind, and retreated into the dark forest. Stopping every now and then to check how far behind his pursuers were.

Two attack choppers rising above the horizon soon confirmed his worst fears.

"How the slag?!-" He didn't have time to stop and ask questions, he bolted with everything he had. Energon was running low, internal systems were overheating: and his tires had been blown out after a previous encounter with the pursuers. As he went deeper and deeper into the vast mountainous terrain: he soon caught sight of his destination, on the side of a small mountain several miles ahead.

"Gotta keep going," he panted through his vents, "Gotta to send for help, have to, warn everyone..."

* * *

Elsewhere, twenty miles north of Bakersfield, Central Valley, California:

The air was still and cool as the stars shone brightly overhead; not a sound could be heard for miles around, even the insects were strangely quiet for some unknown reason.

The whole land felt like it was in the grip of something otherworldly, as if a presence had emerged from some ethereal plain, and had come to haunt the living.

Perhaps such a notion might not be too far from the truth? For a few miles away, at the end of a long apple orchid, on a small yet fairly impressive estate: a man was slowly drawing to the end of his life.

A knock-knock announced the arrival of one more guest, who'd come to bid the man farewell. "Ah, you came" the hostess smiled as she opened the door. The gentleman in question stepped in with a respectful nod, and placed his rucksack and staff by the coat hanger. ", I was half-worried you wouldn't" she added apprehensively.

"I made a promise Wendy, and I never break a promise" the gentleman smiled as he pulled his sleeves over his hands, trying the hide the cybertronian tattoos that covered his arms, "How's Daniel?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, as the sound of weeping echoed down the stairs; "Come with me," she beckoned him to follow, and led the way up the old wooden staircase: down the long dark hallway, and past several bedrooms. In one room, a group of people sat around a table: some held their heads in their hands, while others leaned against one another for support and comfort while a box of tissues was passed around.

"I see Maria has not taken it well?" the gentleman sighed ruefully

"She doesn't have the stomach for this: she thought she did, but? ...Well?"

"I know" the gentleman nodded, "But that aside, I have a job to do, and I don't have much time"

"Of course..." the woman nodded as she led him to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, "He's not got long, the priest is with him now..." she added as she knocked softly on the door, and opened it to let him in. "Thank you Wendy" he smiled, and quietly slipped in.

The bedroom was dark, lit only by candlelight, filling the bare walls with a soft golden glow that made the shadows flit and dance about; at the side of the huge four poster bed, the priest finished his recital of the last rights with the sign of the cross, closed his bible, and discreetly took his leave. "It's all in god's hand's now" he softly spoke as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"I knew you would come..." said the dying man in a strained weary voice, barely able to draw breath as he willed himself to remain in this life.

"I said I would" the gentleman smiled as he pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, and sat as close as he could to the dying man.

"It's incredible: all these years, and you've hardly aged a day" the dying man thought aloud.

"If I had a quarter for every time I heard that" the gentleman chuckled

A brief silence past between them, before the dying man asked: "...So? Is it time yet?"

"...Yes Daniel, it is time..." the gentleman softly held his hand

A soft sigh escaped his lips, "...Finally..."

"Have the necessary arrangements been taken care of?" the gentleman asked

"Everything you asked for: the artifacts will go to Sam as promised; not that any of the other family would want them anyway, but still, I stipulated it in the will never the less"

"That's good"

"Tell me, what will happen now?"

"Now? ...It's up to Sam and Morwenna"

"I have to confess, there were times I seriously doubted this whole thing; knowing what they will endure once they discover the Chronicle"

"The future is not set in stone Daniel. They follow their own paths and write their own stories: the Chronicle is merely a broad overview of the possibilities, it is not absolute"

"But even so; are they ready for what's coming?"

"If their anything like their great-great-grandfather, they will endure. And besides, they are safe with the their friends"

"Okay" the dying man sighed, "...One last thing...When we last met, you promised me that you'd reveal you're true name when we next meet. The name that, you said can only be uttered, at death's doorstep"

"Indeed" the gentleman smiled, "And I always keep my promises..." he added as he leaned over the bed, and whispered in the man's ear. His pale face turned even paler, as he stared at the gentleman in a mix of surprise and disbelief. "...No..." he gasped.

"I'm afraid so" the gentleman nodded

"Well..." the dying man smiled, "It's reassuring to know, that even the worst, can find redemption"

* * *

Elsewhere:

Far from the physical world, beyond the constraints of body and form: in a place few have seldom seen, let alone heard of. Ravage was alone with his thoughts.

Treading the threshold of the Astral Void, between the place of pure mind and spirit, and the darkness where the damned roamed aimlessly; it was a place one did not hang around in. But for one like Ravage, whose life was halfway in the dark anyway, it was a place he liked to come to, to contemplate and meditate on certain matters: away from the physical world, and the bustling minds of the other bots and humans.

Time had no relevance here, so he had no idea how long he'd been walking across the black arid sands of the darkness, while overhead, the Astral Void shone bright and colorful as ever.

As he reached the top of a tall dune, and looked out over the desert below: a figure standing in the sand instantly caught his optic, and he recognized instantly who it was...

"...No..." he breathed in disbelief: was it another telepath? Or a being with similar astral abilities using a psychic disguise? Not likely, one would really have to go out of their way to deceive a telepath of Ravage's caliber, and even then, Ravage knew what to look for if he sensed something was out of place. As his mind scanned the ambient void for any signs of something amiss, and found nothing: the only conclusion was that _this_ individual was exactly who they were.

Soundwave

"It can't be..." Ravage told himself, unable to bring himself to believe this was real. As he galloped down the dune and approached his creator, he saw something was different about him. He looked like he was offline: his armor was rusted and cracked with the paint flaking off like autumn leaves, his joints were buckled and worn, and his visor was cracked down the middle. But more prominently, his optics were dead and dark, with no sign of life to be seen or sensed.

"...Creator?" Ravage gently rubbed his head up against his leg like a cat.

Suddenly, Soundwave's spark chamber burst open with a brilliant shining light, and all at once his armor cracked and shattered like glass, falling off into the sand: revealing a very different mech now standing in his place. This Soundwave was different: familiar on many levels, but at the same time he was like a stranger; almost a flip-side of Soundwave Ravage hadn't seen before...

...Or perhaps? Hadn't known in a very long time? ...

It was hard to tell, so many emotions and memories were now buzzing about the strange mech standing in Soundwave's place: it _was_ Soundwave, it_ was_ his spark, but at the same time it was not him: not the mech Ravage knew when he was alive.

"Creator?" he grabbed his attention

The mech gazed down, and smiled at him as he kneeled down, and gently scratched Ravage behind his ear: exactly the way he used to.

"It is you..." he purred in a broken voice, his joy welling up and threatening to overwhelm him

"It's me Ravage" Soundwave spoke in a soft warm voice; Ravage nearly flinched in shock, "What happened to your voice?!" the panther stared at him in disbelief, and as he expanded his mind out to 'read' the presence of this new Soundwave, what he 'sensed' both astounded and dismayed him.

"Things have changed, and I'm sorry to say; we have _all_ been deceived" Soundwave spoke in a more rueful tone

"I-...I don't understand" Ravage gazed up at him in confusion

"Nothing is what it seems, and the truth-...The truth is, and _always _has been, a _lie_"

"What? You're not making any sense"

"I'm coming home Ravage, but things are going to be different; I'm so sorry for what is about to occur, but you _must_ endure. If not for my sake, then for the sake of all who're involved...The deceit must end, so the truth may be known"

The winds began to whip up the sand, and as Soundwave disappeared into the darkness, his mind reached out, and instilled a sense of assurance with his creation, "...I will come my creation, I _will_ find you..." his voice echoed as he drifted further away.

"Creator! Please Creator! WAIT!-"

"AH!-" Ravage woke up suddenly: looking around, he forgot where he was for moment, before remembering this was his room, and this was his birth. As his mind settled down, he suddenly sensed his brothers, and turned around to see them at his side, staring at him in mix of alarm, shock and concern.

"That was _you_ wasn't it?" Buzzsaw pressed him

"_Please _brother, _tell me_ that was you dreaming?" Rumble pleaded

As Ravage tried to get his thoughts back in order, he couldn't deny what he'd just experienced: "...No, it was not me..." he sighed, wishing it had been a dream.

A knocking at the door nearly made them jump out of their armor, reaching their mind's out to see who it was: they were a little surprised at who was on the other side of the door; "Huh? What's she doing here?" Ratbat raised a skeptical optic ridge.

'_It's open'_ Ravage mentally told them

The door slid open, and Crystalwing stepped in: she was flustered and in a state of anxiety as she strode across to the birth and kneeled down to meet the drone's eye-level. "I sensed what happened as you crossed the void: _please tell me that wasn't you?_" she pleased desperately.

"No, it wasn't-..." Ravage stopped in his tracks as he realized what she just said, "...Wait a minute, _you_ sensed him too?" he asked

"...So it _was_ him" she breathed in amazement: as the drones reached their minds out to her to try to find out what she was talking about, her open memories made them flinch in shock.

"Wait! _You knew_-

"-I did: long before any of you were even online" she interjected

Realizing this was something big: Ravage got up, and looked her square in the visor. "Tell me _everything_; and don't skip on any details"

Down the other end of their bond, Crystalwing's children listened in silence, as their mother told the drones what they wanted to know. All bar Shadowstar, listened in fascination and concern, while she, listened to the echoes of her mother's voice over the strained bond.

* * *

**Enigmatic? Certainly :)**

**So here's where we begin chapter 5 of the saga: enjoy, and remember to R&R please :)**


	2. Chpt 1: Doubts & Dubiousness

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers: just my OC's & the plot.

* * *

TRUE SELF

Chapter 1: Doubts & Dubiousness

NEST Base, 11:25am:

", Can't catch me old mech!" Ashley grinned as he transformed into his hybrid form, and took up a fighting stance as Jetfire came at him with his battle axe,

"Not so old I can't catch _you!_" the black seeker grinned as he went on the offense.

On the sidelines of the training ground: the Autobots and humans watched the spectacle in a mix of disbelief and awe. It had been ten day's since Ashley's incredible metamorphosis, but the reality was still sinking in for many of the members of NEST. Off to one side, Ratchet, Wheeljack and Que were busy overseeing the various medical scanners that were all trained on Ashley, as they followed his every move: while at the opposite end of the training ground, Optimus and Majestrix watched as Ashley dodged and weaved between Jetfire's legs, avoiding his axe while 'tagging' the seeker on his tail-fins.

"Have you seen _anything_ like this?" Majestrix thought aloud as she watched Ashley transform back into human form to avoid a swipe, and then transform back to hybrid mode to resume his defense.

"Never..." Optimus shook his head

"If it were any other time it would be different" Colonel Bishop sighed, "But this couldn't have happened at a more uncertain time"

"I think for the boy's sake, it would be prudent to keep this from Galloway" Majestrix stated: both Prime and Bishop looked at her in surprise, "...Until Ratchet has completed his tests, and is satisfied with the results" she added.

"Whatever they transpire to be, it's unprecedented; an organic with a cybertronian's transformation capability. Such an organism is unheard off" Optimus thought aloud

"Even the techno-organics couldn't replicate anything _even remotely_ similar" Majestrix replied, "You _do_ realize this raises our, 'security situation' exponentially?"

"It's bad enough the Decepticons could catch wind of this, but if this 'Project Broadsword' finds out about him? I don't even want to _try _to imagine the troubles that are likely to spring up" Bishop threw in

"Either way, we're going to have to handle this like glass; tentative, and _carefully_" Majestrix replied.

"Alright Ashley, that's enough for today" Prime called over the training ground; both Ashley and Jetfire stopped, and the crowd of onlookers dispersed as they followed the two fighter's back into the base.

"I'll have words with his father about this, though it's really more of a formality now" Prime sighed quietly.

"I can't think of anyone more acutely aware of his son's situation than him, and have the courage and fortitude not to despair; how does he do it? If it were any one of my daughters I'd be going out of my mind with worry" Majestrix sighed.

"I don't know, but whatever it is that keeps him together like that, I hope he's got some to spare..." Bishop concurred. "Oh by the way, Darren texted me while you were enjoying the show: he's got some things he needs to show you"

"Tell him I'll be there" Prime replied.

As the three commanders brought up the rear of the crowd, up the front, Ashley made his way to the wash-racks with his entourage in tow. "Not bad" his father smirked, "But seriously, save the tricks for the ladies: you dropped you're guard _twice_ back there"

"He didn't pin me down though," Ashley replied as he transformed back into his human form, "That still counts right?"

His father rolled his eyes, "Doesn't matter: an offense is an offense is an offense, doesn't matter if it's for the hell of it or not. Don't get cocky and take a liberty like _that_, understand?"

"Fine" Ashley huffed, "But it _still _would've been three to two"

"_Four to two_" Jetfire corrected, "Weapons count"

"Aw come on! That's not fair!" Ashley protested

"Those are the breaks rookie" Jetfire smiled, "Next time remember to use your tail more, limbs and appendages count too you know?"

"Whatever" Ashley waved, "I'm hitting the showers: catch you lot later" he waved good bye.

As everyone dispersed and returned to their posts, only Morri, Tom, Danny and John remained at his side. "Tactics aside, that was still a good fight" Danny said offhand; "You think?" Ashley smirked, "Come on, you're a human _and_ a transformer now, you got the best of both worlds: and talk about being an x-factor. Big bad Decepticon comes along, sees a little human, thinks he's got easy prey, and boom! You're gonna be a favorite at_ all_ the parties mate!"

"Good point" Ashley nodded

"I don't know..." John thought aloud in a concerned tone, "Best not jump to conclusions before we know _all_ the facts"

"Aye, but Ratchet and the other egg-heads have been working on my blood for over _a week_ now, surly if there was something they'd have found it by now?" Ashley shrugged

"They ran just as many test before, and _nothing_ indicated anything like _this _was going to happen" his father pointed out

"...Good point" Ashley sighed as he thought about it.

"Look, I'm relieved you're okay, and that we've overcome one big uncertainty: but that doesn't mean we're out of the woods just yet. Give Ratchet the time he needs to try and get a better picture of this okay? We still don't fully know what it is, that you are now" John explained

"Um? Not to sound sarcastic or anything? But I'd have thought he's _exactly _what he is" Tom threw in.

"Aye dad, being able to turn into a giant panther-drone isn't obvious enough?" Ashley raised an eyebrow.

"Speaking of giant panther-drones: where'd that oversized house cat get to?" Morri sighed offhand as she looked up and down the intersection of the corridor.

"Who're _you_ calling an oversized house-cat?" Ravage growled peevishly as he came padding around the corner.

"And just _where _have you been all morning? You missed the training session!" Ashley put his hands on his hips, "You promised you'd be there!"

"My apologies, but I've had other business to attend to" the panther replied

"What kind of business?" Ashley demanded

"None of _your_ business!" the panther growled curtly: a little taken aback by his tone, the Briggs family didn't quite know how to reply. Except Morri, who decided to step in before someone said something that could lead to a falling out: "Um? Ashley, why don't you go take a shower and the rest of you go and grab some lunch? Its chili-dogs today: and you know how Glen always fights to get first in line?" she suggested. The rest of the Briggs family left without another word, wondering how she was going to handle this.

When Ravage and Morri were finally alone, she turned her attention to him with a reprimanding look; he could sense her annoyance at his behavior, and knew he had no excuses for his rudeness. "Forgive me child, I am _not_ in the most agreeable mood today" he humbly apologized.

"Obviously" she sighed as she folded her arms, "Care to tell me what's bugging you?"

The panther thought about it for a moment, as he tried to think of the right words to describe it. "...Last night, something, 'happened': something, _serious_"

"Is it trouble?" Morri asked concernedly

"Not per se...Soundwave came to me last night, from the astral void"

Morri blinked in surprise, "What? But-, how? I thought you said he was dead?"

"I thought so too, but it _was_ his spark, _it was him_...and yet- ..."

"What?"

"...There was something, '_different'_ about him, another side to him I'd never sensed before"

"Well? It's the astral void: things there work differently compared to this plane of existence" Morri thought aloud as her memories the void came back to mind.

"In terms of the laws of physics, yes: for telepaths like myself? It's just a different place to go beyond what is physically known; to some there are no differences, to others? That's a different story. But in this case, a lost spark reached out to one it was familiar to, and it found it" Ravage explained.

"So? Did he say anything?"

"He said he was coming home" Ravage simply stated

"Home? But Cybertron's gone, isn't it?"

"I think he was being metaphorical; in any case, I think he's trying to find us"

"Can you be certain?" Morri asked

"No, I sensed he'd come a long way: it might not be so simple as far as the conventional means are concerned; but, it wouldn't be the first time a telepath has reached their mind across a stretch of the galaxy to find the ones they love"

"Have you thought about telling Optimus?"

"I've given it some thought: but for now, let us wait: I sense his mind is preoccupied with 'other' business"

* * *

Meanwhile, aboard the Black Solstus:

"So? It's sort of a good news bad news scenario..." Darren explained as he plugged his laptop into the holo-table and brought up a series of holographic images for everyone to see. "The bad news is: we ran you're audio feed through every audio-filter software we could think, and we got nothing on Silas"

"Whoever the guy is, he's careful to keep his ID under wraps" Sam threw in, as an image of Silas came up in the center of the holo-table.

"The voice scrambler in his mask was outputting several ultra-sonic and infrasonic frequencies that overlapped each other in a synchronized cycle. Throwing off you're audio-scanner's vocal recognition software" Darren explained, "I also ran you're optic-feed of the guy through Teletran's advanced analysis programmes, and it seems he's gone all out to make sure you couldn't get a peek under his mask. His _entire_ body armor and face mask are lined with an interlocking double layer of pure cybertanium platelet's, with shock-absorbing silicon-polymer gel pads around the joints and other soft spots. Hell, you could unload a Kalashnikov on this guy and it wouldn't even dent the external plating"

"But that much cybertanium would weigh as much as his own body weight, if not more wouldn't it?" Crystalwing thought aloud as she studied the holo-image.

"If it were solid cybertanium, definitely; but the advanced analysis showed that the platelets were hollow with a honey-comb internal structure: Just like our bones, making the armor both lightweight _and_ strong" Darren replied. "And then of course there are the suit's added features: like the wrist laser-guns, the EMP emitter, the optical and audio scanners, along with a range of other hardware I couldn't identify for the armor blocking Optimus's scanner's line of sight"

"Long and short of it: he's tricked himself out with some serious hardware: and there wasn't anything in the Pentagon's above-classified archives that even _hinted _at who he is. Whoever Silas is, he's put a lot of time and effort into turning himself into a ghost" said Sam.

"But the fact he didn't want _you _to know his identity suggests that he could be close to NEST: maybe he's the mole we've been trying to pin down?" Trailbreaker suggested to Prime.

"A fair hypothesis, but still a moot point:" Majestrix replied, "And the good news?"

"We _did_ get a hit on those other guys that were there that night..." Darren explained as he brought up another screen-shot of Optimus's optic-feed: this time, it was of the two other gentlemen Prime met during his captivity. "These two, one Doctor Thaddeus Arkeville and Adam Rook, were originally part of Special Weapons"

"Special Weapons?" Majestrix echoed with a raised optic ridge.

"Back when the cold war was at its most tense: the Army's Special Weapons Division was given a budget to look into discovering a means of protecting its troops from the effects of radiation poisoning (in case the Russians decided to drop the big one). Arkeville headed up the project under the codename: Cyber-soldier"

"No prizes for guessing what _that_ involved" Bumblebee deadpanned

"Arkeville had his hand in a number of different fields, but he had a particular specialty in bionics, especially 'cyborg tech'" Darren continued, "He theorized he could create a cyberneticly-enhanced soldier, that could withstand fatal quantities of radiation without incurring the usual cellular deterioration; the project looked set to go initially, but got shut down before the field-testing phase could begin"

"What happened?" Prime frowned

"Well? The story sounded dubious to begin with, but after digging around the above-classified archives, I found the truth was a lot more gruesome than what most were led to believe. For starters, Arkeville _wasn't _the Army's first choice for lead scientist; not only was he one of the many Nazi scientists who was recruited by Operation Paperclip right after the war, but his psych-evaluation showed that he was still a Nazi at heart (in principle). That, and he _was_ one of Dr Mengele's more 'promising' medical students" Darren explained grimly.

"Jesus..." Colonel Bishop sighed bitterly as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Anyway: the main stipulation for Project Cyber-soldier was that no human test subjects were allowed, until the animal tests provided satisfactory results. But of course, this being a covert project meant that a lot of the details were never disclosed to the top brass. And Arkeville was not confident that using dogs and monkeys would yield the results they wanted..." Darren explained, before swallowing hard, and taking a deep anxious breath, "...So, without telling his SO, he not only used _human_ test subjects (i.e. the soldiers selected for the project), but even went so far as to have orphan children brought in, to be test subjects for the more, _'advanced'_ procedures. Needless to say: it was _anything _but ethically acceptable"

"After he was found out, he skipped the country before he could be court-marshaled: probably helped by the CIA. According to the archives he'd done a few 'sideline' projects for them in the past: and at the time they were terrified of what he'd make public if he decided to blackmail them. Arkeville escaped to Kazakhstan in 'eighty three and a total of six assassination attempts were made on his life during the following years. But at every turn he evaded the SEAL's and Delta Force units. When the Cold war began winding down and Russia opened its financial boarders for trading, he disappeared altogether" Sam threw in.

"Until, in 'ninety four, when MI6 spotted him in Johannesburg meeting up with several high-ranking members of 'The hand of Allah' (a small terrorist sec that had strong connections to Al-Qaeda). Apparently he'd gone into the mercenary business as a scientist-for-hire, making everything from dirty bombs to custom-cultivated plagues. He's been near the top of the FBI's most wanted list ever since" Darren added.

"And yet somehow: he turns up on US soil, in one of the most top secret military bases on the planet" Lennox pointed out incredulously, "How the hell did _that_ happen?"

"And Rook?" Prime asked

"Not a Nazi on paper, but his psych-evaluation could've fooled me: apparently he was just as ruthless of not more narcissistic. He was an engineer for Special Weapons, and his technical proclivity went in the direction of advanced robotics. About the same time Project Cyber-solder was being conducted; Rook was the lead scientist/engineer for Operation Iron-Storm: another Army-funded project that looked at arming Special Forces units with advanced robotic body armor. Not as 'ethically immoral' as project Cyber-soldier: but failed as much as the latter; the testing phase proved to be a disaster when several prototype units malfunctioned, subsequently killing their pilots and a number of other people. Like Arkeville he too skipped the country before the federal hammer could fall on his head, and stayed MIA until the end of the cold war. Until, he started showing up in several places around Europe and the Middle East; apparently he too had become a mercenary, specifically an arms dealer, specializing in high end long-range missiles, high velocity weapons, and rumor has it, even small scale nukes" Darren explained.

"So that scuttle-butt about Iraq possessing WMD's might not be a fluke?" Lennox asked curiously

"I couldn't find any confirmation on that: but between Al-Qaeda and several other high-profile terrorist sects in the Middle East, Africa and Asia, Arkeville and Rook had plenty of business between them. Whether they collaborated on any particular 'job' is speculative, but they kept several intelligence services busy between 'eighty nine and two thousand and five. Until five years ago, when they suddenly disappeared; no one saw or heard from them: until a week ago, when _you_ saw them in the old Sector seven base" Darren gazed up at Prime.

"...This may sound obvious if not redundant: but together, could they be capable of reverse-engineering our technology?" Prime asked concernedly.

"I hate to say it, but despite what the shrinks wrote up in their evaluations: they're _both_ genius's in their particular fields. So yeah, it's more than likely they managed to figure out your tech. And considering their not constrained by the limits of 'acceptable ethics' or morals: these guys could've gone all out and come up with some _really _dangerous weapons" Darren replied anxiously.

"Two former US scientist's turned-mercenaries: now working for Project Broadsword..." Bishop thought aloud as he mentally digested all that he'd heard thus far, "This raises more questions than answers; like, how did they get them back into the country? And onto the US Military's payroll? The possibility of blackmail is one thing, but no General in his right mind would go so far as to approve men like _them _for anything"

"That's another thing we checked out" Sam replied, "We went over the federal budget, and there's _no funding_ for a Project Broadsword: classified or otherwise"

The other humans in the room blinked in surprise.

"But, that would mean they bypassed Congress, as well as the Administration" Lennox thought aloud.

"Which is why we think something big is _definitely_ going on here; the kind of funding it would take for something like what we've seen would have to be _immense_. Whoever's bank-rolling them not only has _huge_ pockets, but knows how to cover their trail" Darren explained

"And Galloway? What did you learn of him?" Majestrix asked

Sam and Darren both anxiously glanced at each other: "Unbelievably, not a lot" Sam sighed reluctantly.

"The one thing you _can_ count on with that guy, is that he's a creature of habit" Darren explained, "His online trail wasn't hard to back-hack and follow; like any typical hard-nosed bureaucrat he spends more time at the office than he does his apartment, and what with working in the top-secret intelligence circles, naturally his phones are tapped and his computer and laptop are both bugged. But no matter where we looked or how many times we went over his daily routines for even the _tiniest_ deviation in behavior: we _couldn't find anything_ that would suggest he's up to anything suspicious"

"_If_ he's somehow in on Project Broadsword, there're only _two_ possibilities that are plausible. One, he has a disposable cell-phone with an unlisted number that he uses to talk with his contact: or two, he keeps his moonlighting off the grid altogether by meeting his contact in person" Sam suggested.

"The latter would be highly risky: unless they have a system set up by where they can meet face to face without drawing any unwanted attention" Bishop thought aloud.

"An unlisted cell-phone's a possibility too: but there's no way he could use it in a place like the Pentagon or CIA; or anywhere within a two hundred mile radius of the White House for that matter" Lennox suggested

"It's all speculation: which brings me to my next question:" Majestrix addressed the two teens: "Would it be viable for us to continue this line of inquiry, without arousing any suspicion?"

Again, both Sam and Darren looked at one another as they contemplated the question, before Darren spoke up: "...Viable, in as much, if we had something to go on_._ A money trail, a name, something that we could trace back, and follow to see if it leads to anywhere that might offer something. Look, back-hacking the NSC is one thing, but after that stunt I pulled on the Pentagon two years ago, they've had my MO on record ever since: I can _only do so much_ before somebody starts to recognize a pattern, and begins to put two and two together"

"And being Cybertronian, our typical back-hack MO would be found out soon enough too" Trailbreaker threw in

"What about putting a tail on Galloway, and following him around to see what he gets up to when he's on and off the clock?" Lennox thought aloud.

"And risk getting found out when Moshower told us to stay away? _That_ will create even more problems" Prime replied

"Until we find something that offers us more information; I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do" Darren shrugged

"...Disappointing..." Majestrix sighed in disappointment, "But good work never the less"

"So what do we do now?" Sam asked

"We wait: and see what transpires of Moshower's investigation" Majestrix replied as she leaned back in her chair, "...You are both dismissed" she waved them off. Darren and Sam gathered up their things, and quietly took their leave, followed by their guardian's. Outside the room, waiting in the corridor, the Ainsley girls and their respective guardians were eager to learn of what had transpired; "Well? What'd she say?" Roxy demanded.

"We're putting a pin in the investigation, until something new shows up" Darren replied as he packed his laptop into his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder.

"So that's just _it? _After all our hard work we just get benched?" Roxy glanced at Darren with an air of frustration.

"We're not being benched Roxy" Darren deadpanned, "We're just-, gonna cast our nets again and wait to see if anything swims in; we can't push it anymore than we already have: we're not even supposed to be _doing_ this, remember?"

"It's not a risk worth taking of you're likely to get caught: but since that's not the case with _you_, what's there to worry about?" Chelsea asked

"It's more complicated than that..." Darren sighed as he headed for the ship's exit, with his cousins and friends in tow.

Back in the room, Majestrix sat brooding in her chair, with Prime and the other humans looking on in dubious thought.

"...If Galloway's covering his ass, then he's doing a much better job than I'd originally give him credit for" Lennox sighed.

"But we can't rule the possibility he may be innocent (even if it's a long shot)" Prime pointed out

"The thing that gets me, is who'd stand to gain from Project Broadsword's exploits? You don't go into a black-ops project of _that_ scale and _not_ expect to cut a deal with whoever's lining your pockets" Bishop thought aloud, "Whoever want this, must be getting a pretty big pay-off for the time and effort it demands"

"But who?" Majestrix shrugged, before letting out a long and weary sigh, "...We've done all that we can for now: until something transpires that allows us to dig deeper into this, we'll stay put, and keep our optics and audios open"

"Very well, then I think we're done here" Bishop replied as he and Lennox both got up from their seat, climbed down off the holo-table, and left the room. Majestrix followed suit as she got up, and headed to the door that led through to her privet quarters.

"Majestrix, wait-" Prime got up, and placed a hand on her shoulder as the door opened up like a camera shutter, "...I know we haven't gained anything of great value from this 'investigation'; but you know, you_ can _confided in me with what vexes you, alright?" he stated

Majestrix let out a light chuckle: "It's not that brother: whoever this Project Broadsword are, they'll avail themselves again sooner or later. It's just, _'everything else'_ in-between that's been keeping my time occupied" Majestrix replied

"Grimlock?"

"Him, I _can_ handle, others though," Majestrix caught a glimpse of Blackshot through the window as she strolled by under the ship, "Could be a little more forth coming in their honesty" she frowned.

"Speaking of which..." Crystalwing stated as she slowly got up from the holo-table, "There's something, I feel I must talk to you about; something-, that happened last night..."

* * *

Sometime later, in the Rec-room:

The human canteen area was bustling as the first lunch hour was getting under way, while on the other side of the vast room, the bots were gathering for their daily energon refill. Over in the corner, by the main energon dispensers: Morri had found a secluded table, out of the way and just barely out of sight. As she idly watched the ebb and flow of the crowd, her thoughts weighed heavily on her mind, so much so, that she nearly jumped out of her skin when Max sat down opposite her.

"Bloody hell Max! Don't scare me like that!" Morri sighed as she took a sip of her tea.

"Sorry, just wondered what you were doing up here: kinda, outta the way for you isn't it?" Max asked as she got stuck into her fries.

"I wanted to be alone with my thoughts" Morri replied frankly, the lack of her usual open and friendly demeanor caught Max's notice right away; and come to think of it, she hadn't been her usual self since she was discharged from the human medical unit eight days ago.

"Fine. But what gives? You've been quiet ever since you got outta the hospital wing; got any brain-damage I should know about? Or is it something else?" Max pressed her.

Morri thought about it a moment, about what was _really_ troubling her: she was about to say something, when she caught sight of Velocity watching her from across the room; she was sat right next to Deathshot, holding his hand in a playful school-girl-like manner, while he took several sips of his energon. As they locked eyes/optics, Velocity's sultry yet sinister stare made it clear what she knew she shouldn't do. Morri's frustration and anger boiled up a little, before self-restraint put a lid on it: all the while her poker-face never betrayed her inner thoughts. Thinking up an excuse, Morri fluidly changed the subject. "It's just-...I'm just _pissed off_ at how Galloway's treated us: it's bad enough he said we should've been declared MIA, but to handle the whole kidnapping and then pull the silent treatment on NEST? It's just-, it _really_ gets my goat"

"I feel ya" Max nodded in agreement, "Hell everyone's pissed off at him right now: I mean, who the hell thought he'd make a good diplomat for the bots anyway?"

"It's not about diplomacy, as far as the Presidential Administration is concerned: that's NEST's job. They needed someone who'd make sure we'd tow the line" Morri replied.

"But if _he's_ not towing the line, and we are: what does that make him?"

"Someone with highly questionable motives (if that's the case)" Morri sighed, "Whatever he's up to, it's a fair assumption that-

"-There you are" Deathshot smiled as he walked over to the table, "What are you doing tucked away in here?"

"Just girl talk" Morri smiled, "I didn't want to disturb you and Velocity over there"

"No disturbance at all," the sniper smiled, "Come, sit with us: we'd be most glad for your company" he held out his hand. Morri looked over at Max with an apologetic look, "Go, I'm good here" she waved her off. And with that, Morri grabbed her tray, climbed into her guardian's hand, and let him carry her back to his table, where Velocity was waiting quietly.

"We saw you hiding in there and wondered what was troubling you" the femme said in a sweet voice; her facade didn't fool Morri for a second, but making a sense wouldn't help in any way, so she passed a heavy sigh, and pushed down the urge to bite her head off. "No trouble: just wanted to do some thinking" she replied as Deathshot placed her down on the table.

"Oh? Thinking about what?" Velocity smiled as she cupped her hand around the brunette, and trailed the tip of a claw up the center of her spine, in a subtle threatening gesture: "...Things" Morri stated, "Ashley, Broadsword; and everything in between"

"It has been rather hectic of late" Deathshot said offhand, "Ever since Prime's kidnapping everyone's been wondering and worrying when Broadsword might show up again"

"Quite" Velocity agreed, as she looked Morri in the eye, "But we can all agree, it would be rather _impractical_ of them, to attempt a, _'direct assault'_ on the base. They'd be _overrun_ and outgunned before they could even get within range"

Morri knew what she was implying in her tone, and frowned up at the femme: who merely gazed down at her with a subtle obnoxious grin (all the while, being careful not to grab Deathshot's notice). Suddenly, the comm alarm on Morri's CTG began beeping, announcing an incoming call from Ravage. **: Morri, you're needed in the external hanger, pronto: **the panther growled.

"Oh, gotta go" Morri smiled as she picked up her hot dog and fries, and climbed down off the table, "Catch you love birds later" she waved good bye as she trotted out the Rec-room: half relieved to be out of there, and away from that venomous harlot. A few minute's walk to the external hanger allowed her time to eat her lunch, before emerging into the open-air hanger where the giant cybertronian ships sat stationary. Looking around, she couldn't see anyone at first, until she walked in between the Black Solstus and the Ark, and caught sight of Prime, Majestrix and Crystalwing standing under Omega Supreme, with Ravage sitting off to one side.

As she walked over to them, she could hear the tail-end of a conversation drifting across the tarmac: and it was only when she came to stand right by their feet, did they change the subject and turned their attention to her. "Hope we weren't interrupting anything important?" Majestrix asked as she watched the brunette lick the remnants of ketchup off her fingers, "Not at all," Morri shook her head as she whipped out her handkerchief, and finished off cleaning her fingers: "What's up?"

"You remember our conversation from this morning?" Ravage stepped in

"'Corse" Morri nodded, puzzled as to where this was going (and why both Primes and Crystalwing were involved).

"I deliberately left out the fact that Crystalwing had sensed him too" the panther explained, "When she confided in me with this fact last night, I realized there was something else to this: and sure enough, it turns out we _both_ have something in common"

Morri gazed up at the sheepish-looking Crystalwing with a curious glance: the femme sighed in defeat as she uncomfortably explained: "...Do you recall, when we first met, how many of the bots commented that I was a dead-ringer for Soundwave?"

"Yes?" Morri nodded

"Well? It's not a fluke. You see, many cycles ago, back before the beginning of the war: I _knew_ Soundwave, personally"

Morri blinked in surprise, "Really? How?"

"He was my mentor, when I first started out as a communications officer with the Iacon Central Trans-net Hub. I was the only other telepath in the whole sector, so he was appointed to be my supervisor" she explained, "We were good friends for many years, he even let me use his altmode for my own: but when the war broke out...Well? ..."

"I get the picture" Morri nodded, "But where do I fit in with this?"

"You are one of the few humans who have had first-hand experience with telepaths and psychic manipulations: this puts you in a unique position, compared to everyone else on the base" Optimus stated.

"You see: when telepaths become friends, it's natural for them to exchange the 'mental frequencies' of their specific telepathic abilities; sort of like, exchanging email addresses or phone numbers. In any case, once a telepath senses another in action, they tend to remember the mental impression of their ability" Ravage explained

"And you remember Soundwave's 'impression'?" Morri asked

"Like the back of my wings" Crystalwing sighed, "But when he became a Decepticon: he completely changed. It's wasn't so much the fact that he'd betrayed us that stunned me, but rather: what I sensed of his mind, and _who_ he had become"

"What do you mean?" Morri frowned

Crystalwing struggled to find the right words: "It's-, hard to put into words specifically: but the simplest explanation I can give, is that it didn't feel, _natural..._"

Wondering what she meant by that, Morri was about to ask if she could elaborate further: when Majestrix beat her to it. "Long and short of it: Crystalwing had _always_ maintained her doubts as to whether Soundwave's defection to the cons was totally willing. But since she's the only one who knew him firsthand before the war, I'm afraid it's always been a case of her word against everyone else's. And as time passed, and Soundwave's exploits as Megatron's most trustworthy lap-dog became more and more prevalent; the whole speculation got 'swept under the rug'; until last night"

"One telepath sensing a spark is speculation, but _two_ is a confirmation" Ravage added.

Morri blinked in surprise, as she suddenly realized what that meant: "So-...Wait, he really _is_ alive?!"

"If he is, he's weak to the point of near-death, or he so far away from earth that he's _just barely_ within our combined telepathic range," Crystalwing replied, "I've talked at length with Optimus and Majestrix about this, and they've both agreed to let me go off-world to try and locate him"

"Okay, does that mean you're going too?" Morri asked Ravage

"I would, if her chest-compartment were calibrated to my size specifications; but since their not, I'll be staying here" the panther replied

"That's where _you_ come in, Morri," Prime stated: "_If_ Soundwave is alive we will have to bring him here, and I will need a liaison to assist me in communicating with him. You're prior 'psychic experience' could help to establish a link between us"

"Mores the pity, if could be that simple" Majestrix sighed

Morri looked up at her in confusion, and then back at Prime: "But-, I'd have thought, Ravage and his brothers would be far better suited at getting through to him?"

The bots glanced at one another: half uncomfortable and half feeling stuck between a rock and very hard place: "It would, create a 'conflict of interest' as far as diplomacy is concerned. Being his creations, we would be too close to handle this with _any_ level of detachment" Ravage explained bluntly, the tone of his voice betraying his reluctance.

"Well? That's understandable" Morri offered, "But why're _you_ doubtful?" she asked Optimus.

"As you are aware, from the many stories the other Autobots have told you: Soundwave _wasn't just_ Megatron's most loyal subordinate, he was responsible for many of the Decepticons most daring and devastating atrocities. I know we must strive to put the past behind us and move on: but I fear there will be too much 'bad blood' between the other Autobots to handle this responsibly. As such, I will require someone of an unbiased perspective to assist me" Optimus explained.

"Okay" Morri awkwardly agreed, "But what about Ravage and his brothers? Surly you're not going to keep them from being reunited with their dad?"

The two Primes and one drone glanced at one another awkwardly, before Optimus replied: "...We will, 'cross that bridge' when we arrive at it. For now, I'm ordering you to remain on stand-by: if Crystalwing finds Soundwave and confirms he is still online, I will send for you. And in the meantime, you are not to breathe a word of this to _anyone_, until I say otherwise. Understood?"

"Yes sir" Morri nodded respectfully, "Good: until we hear from you, we will confer with our officers about this" Prime told Crystalwing: "Yes sir" the femme bowed her head in respect; "Well then, you'd better get going" Majestrix smiled. Crystalwing transformed into her altmode, and took off for the sky, disappearing into the blue of the atmosphere, before a burst of orange light indicated her increased speed to break free from the planet's gravity. Prime and Majestrix made their way to the base's command center, while Morri followed Ravage as he steadily paced off towards the cliff-side road that hugged the southern side of the gorge, leading up to the airbase.

"Before you ask, yes; Crystalwing's offspring _are_ aware of this. Telepath's aren't good at keeping secrets from one another; especially their kin" the panther beat her to the punch.

"So you know what I'm going to ask next?" she speculated aloud.

"You _can _speak it: it's not polite for telepaths to answer questions before they've been asked anyway" he replied

"I've heard a lot about Soundwave, and the way he fought the Autobots; but I've not heard _you're_ perspective on him yet. I didn't ask before because I didn't know if mentioning him would stir up old memories: you know; the sort you can't remember without knowing he's gone?" Morri asked tentatively.

Typical Morri: just like her to hold her prying curiosity for the sake of another's feelings; Ravage couldn't help but smile: a lifetime ago she'd have been such easy picking for his bloodthirsty vices; but now, being the drone he is today: it was one of the qualities he couldn't help but admire about her. "You care too much sometimes, you know that, right?" he grinned with a purr, before answering her question: "...I don't know who he was before the war: that was _long_ before my time; but I do remember him. Both during the bloodshed: _and_ away from it"

"Away from it?" Morri raised an eyebrow.

"Even the insane can grow tired of their own insanity: and when time allowed and the demands of Megatron and the war were not too great, we'd take what time we could to be together; _to be a family_..." he explained with a sense of nostalgia in his voice; "True, he wasn't one for letting his emotions show, even with us (and that's an understatement at best, I know). But when we were alone in the bond together, I could always sense _something _just beneath the surface of his sub-conscience: a sort of, compassion and tenderness he never let out...I always figured it was due to some horrendous trauma he'd suffered at some point in his life, and that the need to save his sanity forced him to bury all that he once was"

"The mind can go to extremes when its survival is threatened: and sometimes, blocking out painful memories is the only way to keep one's sanity in one piece" Morri commented offhand

"True, but with telepath's it can be much more complicated, and _dangerous_," Ravage explained further, "When you're part of a bond you share everything, both consciously _and_ sub-consciously: repressed memories are no acceptation. But one has to be _very _careful, unless said memory is repressed _willingly_, the damage it could inflict by being shared openly across the bond can be catastrophic. Like casting poison into a pool of purified water, the trauma of the memory can inflict pain and suffering on the rest of the bond: and depending on the degree of mental trauma, the likelihood of the rest of the bond suffering the same psychological afflictions rises exponentially"

"So? If one member of a bond were to suffer a psychotic break?"

"They'd _all_ suffer the same break" Ravage replied, "Which is why; the issue of mental health was always such a dicey gamble among telepaths: even during the golden age, very little was understood"

"You couldn't treat one without the same condition affecting the others" Morri realized as she ran her fingers through her hair, "_Jesus_, it must have been _hell_"

"And then some...We always believed that was why Soundwave never completely opened up to us; something about his past was so horrific, that he couldn't let out the good, without unintentionally unleashing the bad"

"So? How did you cope with it? With him, I mean" Morri asked

"We tried to stay in the 'now', just enjoy what time we had together, and not let anyone or anything else take that away from us" Ravage sighed, "...Call us whatever you want: monsters, enemies, whatever; but _don't let anyone_ convince you we were never a family, because with so much insanity all around us: it was the only thing that kept us _sane_"

As she thought about it, Morri then felt compelled to ask: "Considering how long it's been since you last saw him, are you worried? About, the unknown?"

"Heh, quite the opposite actually," Ravage couldn't help but smirk, "I know _far too well_: how this will transpire, if the others hear that he's alive". "Hmm..." Morri nodded: she was about to say something else, when she looked up and saw Shiningstar and Shadowstar several paces away. They were arguing (yet again), though this time, it wasn't as heated as usual.

"Everything alright here?" Ravage asked, the two sisters paused, and stepped back a few paces.

"We were just-, debating on mother's decision to-, you know" Shiningstar replied sheepishly.

"I know, but it's merely a formality: to give peace of mind to both of us" the drone replied coolly.

"_If _he's alive, it would be _folly _to bring him here" Shadowstar scowled

"And letting him locate and rejoin the other Decepticons isn't?" Morri interjected

"Clearly you don't see the bigger picture here, _meat-sack_" the purple and white femme paced around Morri with her usual air of ire, "If Soundwave _is_ allowed on this base, he will take whatever opportunity he can to purge Teletran-1 of all his data, and leave as many of us dead as he can; oh, and did it ever occur to you that his _drones_ would betray their loyalty to the bots in a spark-beat, for _their_ creator?"

Ravage stepped between the human and sphinx, his wider frame making the point of his superior strength to her, as he looked her square in the optics, "Let us wait, and see what transpires: you might get too ahead of yourself... again" he stated as he walked off, with Morri staying by his side. Once the femmes were at a distance behind them (and arguing again), she let out an uneasy sigh, "... The flacks going to be a lot worse than that, isn't it?" she asked offhand.

"_You have no idea_..." Ravage frowned internally as he continued to pace up the road.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the med-bay:

"Okay, that should do" Mikaela smiled as she closed the hood, and patted Hound on his side, letting the bot know she had finished: the Autobot tracker transformed back into mech-mode, and stretched out with a sigh of relief. "Ah! That's much better! Thanks Mikaela" he waved good bye as he strolled out the door; "Next time, try to go _around_ the cactus!" Mikaela called after him

"So how many cacti is that now?" Sam asked from where he stood behind one of the bot-sized counter-tops, sorting out a large bundle of wires, piping, cables, and a number of other items into their boxes.

"Uh, four in as many weeks I think?" Mikaela replied as she wiped the grease stains from her hands with an old rag, "You'd think he'd learn to watch out for that riverbed by now?"

"Or maybe it's his excuse to come and see you? It wouldn't be the first time you're _'delicate touch'_ has pleased many a bot" Sideswipe grinned from where he sat next to his brother on the neighboring birth: "Pervert" Sam deadpanned as he threw an old tea towel up at the red Lambo's face.

"What? It's true! Sunny likes getting waxed up when his finish is done" the red twin protested, to which his brother smacked him upside the helm: "WHAT?! It's not like there's anything going on! Human hands are just-, _softer_, is all" Sideswipe protested.

"Yeah? Well those _softer hands_ are gonna be all mine this weekend," Sam grinned as he sneaked up behind Mikaela, and gently slipped his hands into her back pockets, and nuzzled his face against her neck with a teasing kiss: "Down boy, it's only Friday" Mikaela smiled, "Eh, it can't come sooner" he purred as he kissed her neck.

"Oh get a room!" Sunstreaker huffed in frustration

"Shouldn't you guys be pranking someone or causing trouble somewhere?" Sam eyed the twins with a deadpan stare.

"We are: we're keeping our favorite medic company!" Sideswipe grinned gleefully as a sour-faced Ratchet strode into the main med-bay with a tray full of tools: "More like _annoying _the slag out of me by wasting my time with your ridiculous injuries" the medic deadpanned sarcastically.

"Ridiculous injuries?" Mikaela echoed raised an eyebrow, to which both twins held up their left hands, revealing the gaping holes that went right through their palms. "Ouch! How did _that _happen?" she winced.

"Five words: _don't piss off Grimlock_" Sideswipe grinned

"_Four words_: be more careful next time" Sam shot back as he continued to try and get his girlfriend to reciprocate his affectionate teasing. But to no avail as she gently grabbed his hands and led him back to his work station: but before he could say anything, she discreetly slipped a condom into his back pocket, and leaned over to whispered in his ear; "How about some fun tonight?"

"I think that'll be _just fine_" he whispered back with a satisfied grin plastered across his face; when he looked up again, he saw the twins both staring at him with the cheesiest grins he'd ever seen on a bots face-plates: to which Sam's delight fell flatter than a souffle.

"You're not going to leave me alone on this, are you?" he deadpanned

"Hey, porn is porn is porn" Sideswipe grinned: "Even if it's organic" Sunstreaker concurred.

Sam was about to protest when the comm alarm on his CTG announced an incoming message from Glen. **: Yo Sam! You're dads on the phone, needs to speak with you right now: say's its urgent:**

The atmosphere in the med-bay was suddenly replaced with a sense of seriousness, as Mikaela and Sam both exchanged concerned glances. "Put him through to the med-bay office" Ratchet stated. Sam trotted over to said office near the entrance to the med-bay: headed for the corner of the room where Mikaela's desk was situated, and grabbed the phone off the receiver.

"Hey dad? ..." Sam answered; as Mikaela joined him in the office, she saw the unreadable look on his face, and realized right away that something serious was up.

"...Dead? When? ..." Sam replied to his father on the other end, Mikaela froze as she listened: "...Okay..._This_ Saturday? ...Well?-, yeah I can dog-sit Mojo and Frankie, it's no problem...Sunday evening?, Okay... No that's fine, I need to be back on the base by Monday...Yep...Well? Okay, I'll see you guys this evening" Sam put the phone back on the receiver, and stood there for a moment as the look on his face changed from unreadable to a sense of nonchalant puzzlement.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Mikaela asked worryingly

"It's-, Uncle Daniel. He passed away last night" Sam blurted out

"Oh..." Mikaela suddenly felt bad for him

"What?! Who died?" Sideswipe called out, to which Ratchet knocked him over the head with a wrench, and told him off for eves-dropping.

"Do you need to go home?" Mikaela asked as she laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh no it's fine: it's just, the funeral's tomorrow so mom and dad need someone to keep an eye on Mojo and Frankie 'till Sunday" Sam assured her

"Aren't you going?" she asked

"...To be honest?" Sam sighed with a slight wince, "I didn't really know the guy all that well; he and dad were close so it's really more for him than me...Look on the bright side, we'll have the house all to ourselves: so at least we won't need to book that motel?"

"...I guess?" Mikaela thought aloud as she followed Sam back into the Med-bay, "So where's the funeral being held?"

"Just outside baker's field: it's gonna be at least a three hour drive so their leaving tonight; I'm off at six, so? If you want you can-"

"-That'd be fine" she assured him with a small smile

"...I'm sorry for putting a dampener on our romantic get-away weekend" Sam winced awkwardly, "I'll make it up to you, _I promise_"

"That's okay, we can improvise" Mikaela smiled as she hooked her arm around him, and led him back to his work-station: "After all, you _did_ say we'd have the house all to ourselves, right?"

"Yeah, but..." Sam gazed up at the twins with a less-that thrilled look, "Let's just say, _those two_ aren't the only dogs I know of who're perverts"

* * *

**So, there you have it for chapter 1: sorry it took a little longer than usual, I've been enjoying the weekend sun, as well as being kept busy with other things; but hey, we're finally on a roll here, so hanker down and stay tuned for chapter 2.**

**Oh, & don't forget to R&R!**


	3. Chpt 2: Blood Lines

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers: just my OC's & the plot.

* * *

TRUE SELF

Chapter 2: Blood Lines

Three days later:

It seemed unusually quiet.

The usual bustle and humdrum of activity in the main sections of the base weren't as loud and hectic as they normally were for this hour of the day. Which was peculiar, given that today was a Monday, and usually was one of the more busier days of the week.

As she rounded the corner for Que's lab, Morri spotted Longrange and Coldbore being escorted to the open-air hanger by Brawn and Hound. Since the brig was still being rebuilt, the two wayward snipers had been put to use as extra hands out on the airbase: under supervision at all times, and with stasis collars fitted around their necks for extra insurance. Longrange's usual cockiness and all-round obnoxious attitude had dwindled somewhat, as humility (and several stasis shocks) had managed to finally put him in his place (of sorts): least he'd incur the wrath of the guardians if he looked at the charges the wrong way again. Coldbore though, hadn't changed much; he was still silent and observant as usual, and compliant in how he carried out his orders: but that cold stare of his hadn't thawed at all. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, Morri froze, and waited until they were out of sight: once they turned a corner and disappeared, she carried on; being careful to keep her footfalls light and quiet.

She had barely gotten a hundred yards down the corridor when another imposing bot gave her reason to stop. Grimlock was not the subtlest of beasts, and one could _always_ hear his thunderous footsteps before actually seeing him. As the mighty Tyrannosaurus stomped his way down the corridor, Morri barely had time to dive into one of the many alcoves in the wall, and out of the way of his enormous clawed feet. He hadn't even noticed her (but even if he had, he wasn't going to get out of the way for a human), and simply carried on down and around the corner, oblivious to all the other bots who he rudely knocked aside with his tail.

Having Grimlock and his lot on the base had quickly grown to be tiresome, terrifying, and _annoying_ to no end. It was like winding a party down, and trying to get rid of those few irritating guests who were hanging around looking for the extra liquor, when everyone else had left or had gone to bed. It was more frustrating than scary, and it had created a noticeable change on the base. For starters, the Dinobots themselves were too big to be accommodated inside the main facility, so Bishop had allotted them the caves near the reservoir, several hundred yards from the dam (about two miles north of the gorge, in which the open-air hanger was situated). The nights were relatively peaceful, but when the Dinobots reported to the base every day, that's when the troubles usually started. Majestrix's hell-hounds didn't take kindly to the interlopers stealing their energon treats, and as such, fights and spats were a regular occurrence, with both parties now sporting a whole new range of scars, dents, dings, plus claw-marks and teeth-rakes; Cerberus in particular was a force to be reckoned with, as three sets of armor-crushing jaws had wasted no time in repaying Grimlock for that left hook he'd dealt him over a week ago. The rest of Majestrix's menagerie were just as stressed, and it finally came to a head five days ago, when Scytheslash had the stupidity of mind to try and poke fun at Geo while she was fast asleep in her burrow. It was the _angriest_ anyone had seen the behemoth Driller, as she chased the raptor for over seven miles through the desert before finally catching him by the tail, and nearly making a meal out of him. After that, Prime forbade the Dinobots to go anywhere near Majestrix's pets, or _anyone else_ for that matter: as the usual jives and 'trying-to-step-on-the-humans-when-no-one-was-looking' shtick was getting old (and dangerous).

"Hey there!" Swoop beamed as he loomed over Morri's head, the brunette nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun around and stared up at the Pterodactyl: "Close call huh?"

"Close: being the emphasis," Morri deadpanned, "What's his 'gripe-of-the-day' today?" she thumbed over her shoulder in the direction of Grimlock.

"For once, none: he just wanted to come get some energon; he tried the dispensers in the rec-room; but-, they kinda 'broke' when he tried using his teeth to get them to work" the mech sheepishly smiled.

"Ah, that would explain why Wheeljack was in a bad mood earlier" Morri thought aloud.

"Yeah, but he's good at fixing most things, he's got it covered" Swoop waved off.

"Tis true, the scientist hath but skills a-plenty, to remedy even the most vexing of mechanical faults" Leviathan grinned as he approached with Carnage in tow, "And speaking of skills and the like: our good comrade Carnage here has requested the honor of shadowing you're presence today, in order to learn the ways of the humans and their guardians" he gestured to the giant Postosuchus behind him, who simply gazed up like an eager puppy. "Me Carnage wanna help today!" he grunted happily.

"Um? ...Well? ..." Morri hesitated for a moment, as Carnage looked over at her with a delighted twinkle in his red optics: it was a little short-notice, but since her schedule wasn't too busy today, it couldn't hurt to have a tag-along in tow. "As long as you mind that tail of yours, I guess it couldn't hurt" she offered with a small smile.

"Excellent! Then we shall leave you to your works" the giant black mech beamed as he and Swoop strode off. "Catch you two later!" the Pterodactyl waved good-bye as he disappeared around the corner after his commander.

Even though Grimlock and his closest Dinobots were a bunch of overbearing jerks, it wasn't fair to say all of them were the same. For instance, Swoop had proven to be a pretty decent guy: happy-go-lucky, and fun to be around, he was one of the few Dinobots everyone on the base actually approved of: and then there was Leviathan, he wasn't such a bad guy either; a gentleman of a mech with a passionate flair for poetry, he became obsessed with human literature when one of the rookie human soldiers introduced him to Shakespeare: since then, he had visited the computer lab whenever he could to learn all the great works of the bard, and other such classic English poets and the like. And Carnage? Well? He _was_ a nice mech, but really hadn't a clue; everyone could agree he was more simple-minded, almost child-like in some ways: as his CPU's higher functions were more 'baseline' than every other bot's on the base. Which meant he didn't have the smarts to work out more complicated scenarios (hence why he could never speak complete sentences, or with good grammar). As such, many of the humans on the base viewed him more as a creature with 'special needs', than a beast that had simply no higher intelligence.

Morri, being who she was, was one of the few who were tolerant of Carnage's curious child-like nature: and regarded having him shadow her on par with caring for a small child: someone to have patience with, and understanding. "...Guess it's just you and me then?" she gently petted him as he came up alongside her: suddenly, and without warning, he bowed his head down low, pushed his nose in between her knees, and whipping his head up, sliding her onto his head and down onto the base of his neck, so she was saddled atop between his heavily armored shoulders. "Whoa!-, easy big fella! Those spikes of yours are _sharp!_" Morri exclaimed as she tried to avoid the double row of sharp dorsal spines that lined his back and neck.

"Spikes only hurt when me is angry" the Postosuchus grunted as he lumbered around to face the opposite direction, "So, where we go?"

"Uh, okay..." Morri thought aloud as she remembered her schedule for today: "Well? I gotta go meet up with Ashley in Que's lab first, and then, I've got to check the weapons inventory on the airbase. Sound good?"

"Sound good" Carnage grinned, "We go see Que!" and without warning, he took off; lumbering along with a crude, semi-uncoordinated gallop. With his massive jaws making his forequarters front-heavy, he wasn't best suited to speed: but regardless, he had the stamina to cover a fair distance, as he made a bee-line for Que's lab through the long labyrinth of corridors.

* * *

Meanwhile, 160 million miles from earth:

It had been a long while since Crystalwing had traversed the deep vacuum of space.

She'd almost forgotten how the extremes in temperature could feel against her metal. In the light of the sun, it was like standing next to the Ark's thruster engines on take-off, and in the shadows it was colder that Moonshine's icy breathe. Slowing down to rest her engines, she turned around, and nearly gasped when she saw how far she'd traveled; from this distance, earth was now just a little blue spot suspended in the inky blackness of space.

Had she really traveled that far?

'I must have been concentrating harder than I thought' she thought offhand as she looked around. The planet Mars was just another twenty million or so miles away: and aside from the sun at her back, there was nothing but the blackness, and the glistening Milky Way beyond that.

Like a dolphin hunting for fish in murky waters: Crystalwing had been 'pinging' her telepathy out into the void: in hopes of a response 'echoing' back. The technique required a precise level of focus and concentration to cover such a long distance, and so, once she had cleared the moon's orbit and ventured out into space; she deactivated all but her life-support systems, and fell into a sort of 'torpor-stasis'. So far gone was her consciousness that even the telepathic bonds she shared with her children felt as if they were more distant than ever before.

It was a mental strain, but she _had_ to endure it.

This was the first time she had come out of her stasis to refuel; and as her satellite form drifted through the void, she pondered on whether this venture was worth continuing or not. One hundred and sixty million miles from earth: between now and when she left three days ago, she had encountered nothing and no one; even through her telepathy, she had not detected anything alive.

'...Maybe? ...he really is dea-

_Help_

Crystalwing reversed her thrusters, stopping dead in her tracks; and listened...

_Help me_

It was so faint, so lacking in anything that indicated sentience: it barely even registered in her telepathy matrix. It could have been some stray transmission that had drifted through space for Primus knows how long: or maybe even some background radiation that was concentrated in such a way that it resembled a transmission signal? (it wouldn't be the first time such a phenomenon had occurred).

It could be _anything_: but on the off chance it was who she was looking for, then it was worth investigating.

Activating her long-range scanners, Crystalwing slowly spun around as she probed the void for a sign: an energy trail, a debris field, anything that would indicate someone travelled this way, or near as damn it. As she turned towards the sun, and the planet Mars became eclipsed by the blinding white light of the star, something at the far range of her scanner's caught her attention...

Focusing her optics telescopic-mode on the 'blip', she saw it was something on the opposite side of Mars orbit that was coming into view; whatever it was, it was too far away for her scanner's to accurately determine what it could be. But from this distance, it was quite large.

Setting a course for the red planet, Crystalwing fired up her thrusters, and made a bee-line for the unidentified object.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on earth:

As the Postosuchus slowed his speed to a trot, Morri breathed a sigh of relief as she swung one leg over, and dismounted Carnage: thankful that his spikes hadn't caught her in the groin. "Cheers mate..." she breathed as she stopped to catch her breath. "Next time, try going a little slower, okay?"

"Okay" Carnage nodded, "What everybody doing?" he grunted as entered the lab; inside, Ashley and his father were sitting atop a bot-sized counter-top with Deathshot standing off to one side. The Postosuchus approached his side, and propped his forequarters up on the counter-top, like a dog waiting to be given table scraps.

"Hey, glad you can join us" Ashley deadpanned as he transformed back into his human form. "Sorry, nearly got squished by Grimlock, and Carnage wanted to join in the fun" Morri replied, "What've I missed?". "Not much, just the _billionth _blood sample, for the _billionth_ time" the pre-teen sighed as he folded his arms while giving Ratchet the hairy eyeball.

"It simply for _insurance_" the medic cut him a deadpan look: "The bulk of the preliminary tests are complete; now the _real work_ begins"

"What?! Then what the hell were all those other tests for?!" Ashley exclaimed in dismay.

"_Those _were to check for any abnormalities in your _human_ metabolic system, to be sure the transformation sequence hadn't created any unwanted collateral damage; now that we know for sure both your organic and cybertronian systems have synched and stabilized. We can now begin the process of dissecting the new nanites within your hemogon, and getting to the bottom of what really makes you 'tick'" Ratchet explained.

"Aye lad, and considering the uniqueness of _your_ particular system: it's not gonna be a run-of-the-mill micro-dissection" Que added as he strode into the lab with several small boxes piled up in his hands, "The genetic sequencing alone is gonna be tricky enough: never mind mapping the morphology of the organic-to-mechanical ratio, and then there's how it all fits together. I tell ya lad, I wasn't the head of organic studies at the Iacon Academy of Sciences _for nothing!_" he stated matter-of-factly.

"So? How're you going to go about this one?" Morri asked as she climbed up onto counter-top (being careful not to knock the laser-scalpels). "With _this _little beauty!-" Que gestured to a rather large mechanism, that somewhat resembled an old-fashioned dialysis machine, "I managed to knock her up last night out of some old micro-analysis scanners we had lying around; it-"

*PEEP-PEEP!*

At that moment, the sound of Bumblebee's horn announced the arrival of Sam and Mikaela, as the yellow 2009 Camaro pulled into the lab, and allowed his passengers to exit.

"You're late!" Ratchet gave Bumblebee the hairy optic, as he disappeared into the back-room lab.

"Sorry, there was a pile-up on the north-bound highway: some drunk human thought it'd be fun to play chicken with a Peterbuilt at eighty miles an hour..." the scout figuratively 'shrugged' on his suspension: "Unfortunately, the truck kinda won" he added with grimace in his voice.

"So, how was the weekend?" Deathshot smiled politely.

"Quiet, and uneventful" Mikaela smiled with a cheeky wink.

"Yeah, _'quiet and uneventful'_" Ashley grinned with air quotes, to which his father only glanced sideways at him with a: seriously? Kind of look. "(Oh come on! Like you and mum don't get up to anything when I'm outta the house!)" The pre-teen shot back.

"Oh, how'd the funeral go?" Que asked as he tended to his machine.

"Mom said the buffet was great, so I guess it went okay?" Sam replied as he reached over Bumblebee's backseat, and pulled out a huge, old and tatty-looking cardboard box. The yellow scout then transformed, and placed his charges up on the counter-top next to the Briggs cousins.

"What's in the box?" Ashley asked as he eyed the mold-stained cardboard.

"My 'inheritance'" Sam replied in a flat deadpan as he placed the box down on the counter top: "Uncle Daniel left some stuff for me in his will, thought it might be 'of some use' (whatever that means). Basically, he couldn't bear to throw it out and thought palming it off to me would be the better option" he added as he opened the box, and gazed down at the contents, with everyone peering over his shoulders (with the exception of Carnage: who simply shuffled along to get as close as he could).

Inside, there was a whole load of crumpled-up old newspapers and even older hessian cloth, covered in cob-webs: and dust so thick it almost resembled volcanic ash; who knows how long it had been undisturbed? Decades? A century maybe? Not in the last ten years that's for sure.

"Energon cube smells _old_" Carnage grunted as he sniffed the air.

"It's old junk..." Sam replied as he reached down, and pulled out a small bundle of cloth that looked like it was wrapped around something: "And FYI, it's a _box_, not an energon cube" he added. After carefully unwrapping the hessian, and dusting off the cob-webs and dirt, he was a little surprised at what he was holding in his hand. "Huh, a ships compass" John said offhand as he took a closer look. The compass itself was quite old fashioned; large as one's hand and set in brass, with an elegant eight-pointed windrose painted on the face. "We've got one of those in our hallway back home" Morri added offhand, "What else did he leave you?"

"Not a small fortune, that's for sure" Sam deadpanned as he removed a couple of other bundles from the box. After unwrapping another covering of hessian, Sam found a large wooden box: as he pried it open, the rusted hinges on the lid creaked with an unpleasant squeak, like a fork on a plate. Inside, there were dozens upon dozens of old black and white photographs, and as he removed them and passed them around for everyone to look at, they all noticed how the same reoccurring scenes appeared in most of the pictures; a ship and its crew, the open sea, a white desolate landscape made up of ice and snow, plus polar bears and whales and seals...

...And the grim image of Megatron's face encased in thick glistening ice.

"Oh my god..." Mikaela suddenly realized, "This must be you're great-great grandfather's polar exhibition"

"You're right..." Sam replied offhand as he studied the photos in fascination: "I guess Sector seven never knew about these pictures; someone must've smuggled the camera back to America before they knew about the-, incident"

"Look at this..." John unwrapped another artifact, "This must have been the ship's logbook" he held up the large black book, and gently thumbed through the old worn pages.

"How come I never knew about _this?_ All I got was a compass, a sextant, a telescope and a pair of glasses: why give me this now?" Sam thought aloud.

"He must've had his reasons" Morri shrugged: "...You know? We had an Archibald in the family at one time: Uncle Archie, (I think my Nana called him?) I think he was a great uncle, or a second cousin? Something like that,"

"Really?" Mikaela glanced up at her.

"Yeah, but it was forever ago. I'll have to ask her next time I email home"

"He'd be on your mum's side of the family" John threw in as he scanned over the pages of the logbook: "No Archie's on the Briggs branch of the family tree"

"Hm, fascinating is it not? Just _think_ how many ancestors have contributed to the make-up of your genetic lineage" Que said offhand

"How so?" Ashley asked

"Well, mum and dad make two, both sets of grandparents make four, great-grandparents make eight, and great-great-grandparents make sixteen, and so on the further back you go. By the time you reach the first Homo sapiens, you're talking about something like seven or eight thousand generations in total" Morri explained.

"Whoa, that's a _big _family tree" Bumblebee blinked in surprise.

"And to think: all those genetic codes passed from one generation to the next; writing and re-writing their sequencing over and over again, with no direct or deliberate upgrades or re-programming's. Many Cybertronians just can't appreciate the sheer _randomness _of it" Que added as he tinkered away on his device.

"Mm-hm?" Sam nodded nonchalantly as he studied more of the photographs, before a much larger item at the bottom of the box caught his eye; reaching down and pulling it out, he removed the hessian cloth to reveal a large A2-sized leather portfolio. "Whoa, what's this?" Sam thought aloud as he untied the string that secured the flap in place, and peered inside.

"Oh wow..." he breathed in surprise as he removed a large parchment of paper, and held it up to get a better look. If one didn't know what cybertronian glyphs looked like, you'd be forgiven for mistaking the intricate symbols and hieroglyphs for a mish-mash of interlocking shapes, swirls and patterns. But even though everyone in the room could read cybertronian, the strange arrangement of glyphs made no sense at all; they were simply multiple lines of randomly arranged numbers and letters that varied in size and spacing, criss-crossing one another in a tightly packed layout that almost resembled something akin to a super-sized crossword or Sudoku puzzle.

"...What is _this?_" Bumblebee frowned in confusion as he scanned the glyphs, "I can't read it"

"Neither can I ..." Deathshot concurred in equal bemusement, "It looks like an encrypted code of some kind"

"It's not the only one, there're more papers in here" Sam gestured to the portfolio: Morri peered inside, and sure enough, there was a whole pile of them: more or less the same size, and all ink-drawn with the same arrangement of glyphs. "There's got to be over a hundred here..." she added as she thumbed through the pile, "And look, they're signed..." she pointed to a set of initials in the corner of the parchment Sam was holding: "A. A. W?"

"A. A. W? ..." Sam frowned at the letters in confusion, as he tried to think what they could stand for, "...A. A. W...A-, _Archibald Amundsen Witwicky!_" he suddenly realized, "Holy crap! _He wrote these?! ... -_But-, how's that possible? The other sheets of paper I got were just insane scribblings, _they didn't even make sense!_ This is _way more_ coordinated: thought out..."

"Hmm: I have to confess..." Que thought aloud as he peered over Sam's head for a better look, "I've seen a whole range of various encodings and the like, but I've never seen anything this _complex_..."

"But-, what are they? And what could they be for?" Mikaela looked up at him.

"Something with this level of detail, can _only _be for something important" Que replied as he gently took the parchment from Sam's hands, and glanced it over with his scanners.

*Ding!*

"Oh, uh?-" Que nearly jumped out of his armor as an alarm sounded on his machine, "-Excuse me while I see to that!" he handed the parchment back to Sam, and quickly turned his attention to the machine as a small wisp of smoke started to emanate from its top-most vent.

"Maybe you should let Darren have a look at them? If anyone can crack a code like that, it's him" Bumblebee suggested

"Yeah, I guess? ..." Sam replied offhand, as he carefully placed the parchment back into the portfolio: "But I'm more curious as to why I got this now?" he thought aloud.

"Carnage smell something else in box" the Postosuchus grunted as he sniffed the air.

"Huh? There's nothing else in there, that's all there-" Sam paused mid-sentence, as he noticed something at the very bottom of the box, "...-Is...". He reached down, and grabbed a hold of the last and largest of the hessian-wrapped bundles. This time, it was a painting; three by two feet big, painted in oils: depicting a family portrait. The head of which, Sam instantly recognized...

"Whoa, it's-...its Archibald" he couldn't help but smile, "Oh my god, this must be his family; _my_ family..."

"Whoa..." Ashley blinked in amazement as he looked the family portrait up and down, "That's you're great-great-Grandfather?"

The portrait itself was nothing special in terms of its style: it was just a typical family portrait: all four family members together, dressed in typical early 20th century clothing , with what looked to be a harbor full of tall ships and fishing vessels in the background. As Sam scanned the picture, his look of amazement turned to fascinated curiosity. "That's _him_..." he pointed to Archibald, "That must be his wife, my great-great-grandmother Willamina" he pointed to the woman next to him. "Who're the kids? _That guy_ looks just like you're dad" Mikaela pointed to the teenager on the right, "That must be my great-grandfather, Clarence..." Sam replied offhand: "...But who's the _other _guy? ..." he pointed to the younger boy on the left.

"You don't know who he is?" Bumblebee asked concernedly.

"I was told Archibald only had _one_ son" Sam glanced up at the scout in confusion, "There was never any mention of brothers or sisters"

"Seriously?" Bumblebee blinked in surprise: "When I first came to earth and learnt of Archibald and his failed polar expedition, I researched him _thoroughly_: including the birth certificate of his son; I never found _any_ evidence of any other offspring being born"

"Well. Whoever he is, he's part of the family portrait, so he must've been someone important to them" Mikaela reasoned.

"There's something written on the back..." John pointed to the back of the painting; flipping it over, everyone saw an inscription written in ink across the bottom right-side corner of the canvas. "Archibald Witwicky, Willamina Witwicky, Clarence Witwicky..._something_ Witwicky. Painted on sight of, _something_, July fourteenth, eighteen ninety six" Sam read out, "They scribbled out the kid's name and where it was painted?" Ashley pointed to said ink-blotches where the names had been blacked out.

Everyone looked at one another in bemusement.

"But, why?" Morri thought aloud with a confused frown,

"And for what reason?" Sam added.

"-Ah-ha! Got it!" Que exclaimed happily, everyone was so engrossed in the painting that they nearly jumped out of their skin/armor; "Got what?" Morri breathed a sigh of relief.

"The device: it's ready to start the process!" Que beamed. Suddenly remembering what was going on when she arrived, Morri tried to get her focus back to the here and now. "Um? What process? Exactly?"

"Uh?-" Que forgot for a brief moment, before he suddenly remembered, "Oh yes! _This little beauty_, will not only be dissecting Ashley's new nanites and their morphology, but it will also be mapping out Ashley's genetic sequencing, in order to best determine how the nanites have bonded to his genetic coding, and try to find the mechanism to his transformation sequence" Que patted the machine proudly, before gathering up the boxes he'd been carrying, opening them up, and placing various test-tubes and Petri dishes into an opening in the front of the device. "However, we first need to establish a genetic baseline for comparison: which is why I've spent most of the morning going around the base, collecting DNA samples from as many humans as possible. _You four_ would round off the comparison sample collection quite nicely: do you mind if I ask for a specimen?" he asked as he handed out some empty Petri dishes.

"Sure" John shrugged as he spat into the dish, with Sam following suit. "No problem "Mikaela replied as she and Morri both discreetly spat into the dish. Que then took the samples, placed them in the machine, closed the lid, typed in the start-up commands into the key-pad: and watched with delight as the machine whirled to life.

"So? In terms of mapping out my DNA, what're we looking for exactly?" Ashley asked.

"Well, it won't be easy" Que turned to face them, "First; we've got to find a common-

*Beep*

Que turned round and glanced at the screen with a suspicious frown, as he read the data scrolling across the monitor "Hm, a glitch," he shrugged casually, and pressed the delete key to cancel the notice.

"Anyway, we need to-

*Beep*

Delete

*Beep*

Delete

*Beep*

Delete

...*Beep*

Que frowned at the screen: with his fingers flying over the keypad, he ran several software scans simultaneously, and as the data scrolled across the screen, his bemusement turned to dubious concern, "...Wait a minute, this _can't possibly_ be right?" he thought aloud as he analyzed what he was reading.

"Problems?" Deathshot asked.

"Not _per se_, the software checks out... According to the DNA scanner, there're _two humans _here on this base who're _third cousins_"

"_Third cousins?_" Ashley raised an eyebrow, "What? They share an uncle or something?"

"More like a common ancestor: it seems that-..." But as Que read more of the information, one line of data stopped him in his tracks, "..._Oh my_..." he stared at the screen in surprise.

"What? What is it?" Sam pressed him

"Ummm? ..." Que hesitated awkwardly, before turning the screen to face the humans, "-Perhaps it's better if you see for yourselves..."

As they read the DNA analysis, the two names on the screen made everyone's jaw drop.

"..._No. Fraggin'. Way! ..._" Bumblebee exclaimed.

* * *

Meanwhile, 2.5 million miles above Mars:

As she left the dark side of Mars for the sun-lit side, Crystalwing gazed down and watched in wonder, as the barren features of the desolate planet cast long shadows across its endless deserts. Empty craters, mountains, ridges and canyons dotted the surface in a uniform pallet of dull rusted hues. As she settled into a steady orbit, she concentrated on the object of her attention; the unidentified 'blip' on her long-range scanners, that was now well within range.

A cybertronian vessel: and it was a BIG one.

It was also in a very sorry state: part of the ship was ripped in two, with the remnants barely connected to where they had been dethatched: no sign of engine activity was detectable, not even life-support. But how did it come to be here? Perhaps, as it drifted past the planet, it came close at such an angle, that Mars gravity pulled it in and it naturally fell into a stable orbit. But from where had it _originated _from was anyone's guess.

As she drifted closer for a better look, Crystalwing noticed something about the ship's design that seemed hauntingly familiar. That large pointed bow, those huge broad stabilizers, and those long lines of plasma cannons on the underside, beneath the top-most forward gun batteries and launching bay...That's when she recognized...

...It was the Nemesis.

The flagship of the Decepticon Armada: and Megatron's personal battleship.

'..._Primus_...' She thought as a shiver ran down her spinal unit. Even in death, the Nemesis looked just as terrifying as she did eons ago. As Crystalwing scanned the outer hull: she saw how a large portion of the ship had exploded from the inside out; practically all of the stern and port side was gone, but much of the bow and starboard were still intact: and some of the air-locks were still sealed shut.

But had the air-locks been shut manually? Or were they automatically activated when the ship blew up?

The mass of burn and scorch marks along part of the blown-out hull indicated a fight of some kind: someone had fired on the hull from the outside; and as the lifeless half-destroyed body of a Decepticon soldier drifted out of the hull, tangled in the mass of wires and cables protruding from the metal: it became clear that something quite sinister (even by Decepticon standards) had transpired here.

Scanning the scorch marks and referencing her data-files on all known Cybertronian weaponry, Crystalwing found that there was only one weapon that left those kinds of marks; the null ray.

'_Starscream_...' she realized: '... He did _this?_ ...I guess Thundercracker and Skywarp's story _really does_ check out'

_Help_

There it was again: still very faint, but this time, much closer. Somebody wasstill alive aboard that ship, but where were they? And _who_ were they?

'_Can you hear me? Where are you?' _Crystalwing telepathically shouted

Nothing

Where they dead? No, she would've felt it: perhaps they had fallen into emergency stasis, and had to shut down their systems to conserve their energon? Whatever the reason, there was a survivor _somewhere_ on that ship.

But was it a survivor? This _was_ the Nemesis after all, and if there's one thing the ship _always_ excelled at, it was being armed to the teeth with booby-traps that were specially tailored to snag intrusive Autobots. Even with her hacking skills and smarts on Decepticon tech, Crystalwing knew she couldn't take any chances, _not with the Nemesis, _and knew she needed help.

Altering her course and moving some distance from the ship, she scanned around, until she spotted earth: and calibrated her comms to get the best line of sight possible...

**: This is Crystalwing, contacting NEST base: Priority code 24679-8860: the password of the day is Bravo: This is an emergency message for Optimus Prime...: **

* * *

A little while later, in the rec-room of NEST base:

"Wait-, hold up: you two are _cousins?!_" Jazz gawked in surprise

"_Third cousins_ technically, but yeah, who knew?" Sam deadpanned nonchalantly, trying not to sound boastful.

"And you _both_ share the same great-great-grandfather?" Bluebird asked, as her charges stared at Sam and Morri in bemusement.

"_Apparently,_" Morri shrugged, still not quite sure what to make of this new revelation herself, "According to the data on our DNA: Sam's genetic connection runs on his father's side of the family, but it runs on my _mother's _side: from _her _father's side of the family"

"I guess that _'thing'_ about uncle Archie wasn't a load of family gossip after all?" Danny sighed.

"Well? I _did_ say there were no Archie's on our side of the family..." John shrugged offhand, before turning serious, "But I'm more curious as to why now?"

"Now?" Sam raised an eyebrow

"Why did you receive your 'inheritance' now? And not sooner when you were given those other items two years ago?" he speculated aloud.

"That's exactly what _I'd _like to know..." Sam sighed as he laid down the last parchment from the portfolio onto the bot-sized table: "...Okay, this is the last one: that makes one hundred and seventy six sheets in total" he added as he scanned over all the parchments.

"Wow, that some coding," Bluebird sighed offhand as she looked the parchments up and down.

"And the fact it was all written by a human is nothing to backfire at" Jazz added, "This is some pretty detailed stuff: Slag, I don't think I've seen anything as complicated outside the Autobot intelligence division"

"Or the 9 for that matter, and we dealt with a whole _plethora_ of encrypted coding back in the day" Deathshot added as he studied the parchments.

"Maybe it's a secret message or somethin'?" Rosy threw in

"Or maybe a grocery list for all we know?" Roxy added

"Highly unlikely" Darren shot her a deadpan look, "...But still: this _is _some pretty sophisticated coding for a secret message"

"What do you think it is?" Deathshot asked

"I don't know" Darren shrugged

Everyone paused; not quite sure they heard him correctly

"Wait a sec: _you don't know what this might be?_ Mister 'top-cybertronian- translator-in-the-world-ever'?!" Lizzy gawked at him

"I said _I don't know_" Darren clarified, "I've decrypted and translated _all kinds_ of cybertronian coding, and this is the first time I've seen _this_; hell, I don't know if Teletran even has anything in his data-archives on this"

"So you won't take a crack at it?" Sam asked

"Don't insult me: you know I can never say no to something like this..." Darren shot him a deadpan look, "But don't expect me to get back to you right away: this is going to keep me busy"

"Thanks dude" Sam smiled

"Eh, just buy me lunch and we're good" Darren waved off.

"What's going on here?" Velocity asked sweetly as she came up behind Deathshot and hooked her arm around his. Morri hid her disdain well, as she tried to avoid eye-contact with the femme.

"We're trying to solve a mystery" Rosy smiled as she pointed to the parchments, "Oh, and Sam and Morri just found out their cousins!"

"Cousins?" Velocity faked her surprise aptly, "Well, that must've come as a surprise"

"Surprise, being the emphasis," Morri replied, before making her way to the edge of the table and climbing down to the floor: "If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go get a bite to eat".

As she made her way across the floor, she could feel Velocity's gaze boring into the back of her skull: as she got within range of the energon dispensers, she heard Velocity say to Deathshot: "How about some energon? I'll go get us some cubes". As soon as she heard the femme turn, Morri broke into a sprint, and as quietly as she could, made a dash for the underside of the dispensers. Being so low to floor, and so near to the busiest part of the rec-room meant Velocity couldn't reach down without drawing attention to herself. As she approached the dispensers: Morri peered out from a small gap between cables, and looked up at her like a mouse gloating at the cat from the safety of its hole. Velocity simply stared at her with a passive look of frustration and annoyance, while Morri simply stared up at her: neither smug nor relieved; she kept her poker face up, before disappearing behind the cables.

Looking the huge dispensers up and down, Velocity knew she'd never be able to catch her: the machines were so big and had so many cables and energon pipes connected to them, that Morri could easy hide behind them for as long as she wanted, before slipping away unnoticed. With a discreet huff through her vents, Velocity decided to save her frustration for later: and after filling up two energon cubes, she returned to Deathshot with that sweet alluring smile of her's.

As she watched from the safety of the vents at the rear of the dispensers, Morri decided going back was not worth it, and so, after spotting a safe and discreet way out via the entrance at the opposite end of the room: she quietly slipped away; being mindful to watch over her shoulder.

After escaping the rec-room unnoticed and making a quiet exit to the open-air hanger: Morri breathed a sigh of relief; but she knew it was only temporary. When Velocity would eventually catch up or catch her off guard, there could well be trouble. And there was no telling how far the femme would go, if at all? At this point, she didn't want to take the chance.

"_This is getting ridiculous!_" she told herself. There was no way she could let Velocity carry on intimidating her like this (And the fact she missed the opportunity to confide in Deathshot earlier when he was alone in Que's lab made her kick herself in the head even more); briskly walking across the tarmac to the rear loading ramp of the Black Solstus, Morri got down on all fours, and crawled under the ramp, hoping the small space beneath would afford her some privacy.

As she made herself comfortable in her hiding spot: she began to ponder on how best to catch Velocity red-handed: she was a sly femme, and cunning in being very discreet, even so brazen as to corner her in broad daylight during the day shift. But what had disconcerted her the most, was how she'd managed to fool Deathshot so easily. But knowing Deathshot and how perceptive he was, something deep down told her that couldn't possibly be a hundred percent true: Deathshot was many things, but _never _gullible. It could well be the most likely way to catch her off guard: to hell with not telling her guardian the truth, if Velocity was serious about hurting her or her family, she _wasn't_ going to play the femme's sick little game.

But then she realized: it's one thing to tell truth, but without evidence to back up her claim, it would just be her word against Velocity's; and considering what a great actress she was, chances were she'd find a way to disprove her, if not take advantage of the situation to make _her_ out to be the bad guy. And then what?

Setting a trap might be risky too, Velocity was well trained in espionage, and chances were she'd know if she was being baited. As she thought through every possible scenario and its likeliest outcome, her list of options slowly began to dwindle, and as her choice of actions became more and more fewer, she was left with a stark and grim feeling that this was not going to be so straight forward.

It was then, she noticed her CTG, and wondered; typing in the commands on the holo-projected keyboard, she brought up the CTG's communications functions: and found the voice recorder. Bringing said function up, her anxiety was replaced with a glimmer of hope as she read through the user instructions, and found a piece of text that read: can record any vocalizations within a thirty foot radius.

"...That could work" Morri thought aloud with a small sly smile: a secretly recorded threat could do the job of proving her case. But as she thought about it, she realized she'd have to find the right time and place, and purposely leave herself open to Velocity. It would be risky, but she didn't have many other choices.

"What you doing?" Carnage asked as he unceremoniously poked his huge nose plates under the ramp to sniff the brunette.

"Oh, I was just-, taking a moment to rest: it's so very hot today" Morri lied as she crawled out from under the ramp.

"Base is cool inside" Carnage replied as he turned his head around to push his nose in between her legs, and flipped her onto his shoulders; without complaint, Morri brought her legs round and steadied herself on the base of his neck. "Yeah, but I just wanted some peace and quiet, away from everyone: you know?" she lied.

"Okay. What we do now?" he grunted

"I don't know: I've got to-

The sound of hushed voices could be heard, echoing from somewhere on the other side of the giant dormant ships.

"What that noise?" Carnage asked as he craned his head up to try and hear better.

"I'm not sure: let's go and see..." Morri replied, as Carnage steadily followed the echoes to the other side of the Ark. At the rear of the ship, Obsidian and Twilightveil were stood with their younger siblings, and in the shade of the Ark's rear thrusters, Ravage paced around in circles like a restless caged animal, clearly agitated. The sight of the Postosuchus with his rider nearly made them all jump. Being telepathic, that _never_ happened: something _serious_ was up if they were not paying attention to all the minds in the immediate area (not least a human and a Dinobot less than twenty feet away). But it was only when they came closer that Morri saw the looks on their face-plates, and realized something was wrong.

"What's wrong? You all look like you've seen a ghost" Morri asked as she dismounted the Dinobot.

"Uh? Umm?..." Rumble awkwardly tried to find the right words to explain.

"CARNAGE! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Grimlock bellowed from the opposite end of the open-air hanger.

"Boss wants me: me gotta go" Carnage said as he turned around and trotted off back the way he came: ", Bye..." Morri waved, before turning her attention back to the siblings. "Are you okay? Has anything happened?"

"Something-, has _kinda _happened" Shiningstar replied awkwardly

"Mother has found _something_, a ship I think, high in orbit over the planet Mars" Obsidian explained

"You can't reach her?" Morri asked

"_Only just_: she's so very far away, she's just _barely_ within our combined range" Twilightveil added worryingly.

"In light of the circumstances, we've been _'supporting'_ the family here; so as best to provide as much telepathic 'muscle' as possible" Buzzsaw explained

"There was something..." Ravage huffed with a growl, "_Something_: a presence; it called out to her. But then it was gone" he ground through his teeth. Seeing him so worked up, Morri's first instinct was to try to calm and reassure him, but she knew better than to approach him when he was in a state like this; after all, he wasn't a tame drone at spark. But suddenly, he stopped and stared intently: the others too all blinked in surprise, as if something had nearly caught them off-guard again. They turned around and stared in the direction Ravage was looking in: stepping around Twilightveil's long trailing hem to get a better look, Morri felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as she laid eyes on Shadowstar.

The femme stood there for a moment, as if interrupted: whatever she had in mind, it seemed as if she thought better of it, and quietly as she had approached, she padded away; flicking her tail back and forth in annoyance, with a sour frown to boot.

"What was _that_ all about?" Morri asked, still a little unnerved.

"Same as always" Shiningstar sighed, "To try and start trouble"

"At this point, I'm inclined to think she just likes to do it for kicks" Rumble deadpanned.

"She's not important" Ravage stated, "What's at hand, _is_"

"So then you know, what I am about to tell you?" Optimus asked as he approached the group.

"You might as well say it and inform her" Ravage gestured to Morri

"What's going on Optimus?" Morri asked as the Prime knelt down to meet her eye-level.

"Morri: I received an encrypted communication from Crystalwing a short time ago. She's discovered the remains of the Nemesis" he stated. Morri eyes flew open: "The Decepticon's flagship?" she blurted out.

"Yes, and she believes there could be a survivor on board"

"Is it-, _him? ..._" she asked, being mindful not to say his name aloud: in case of any prying audios who might be listening in.

"Unfortunately we have no conformation at this time. But we intend to act on this immediately..." Prime stated as he gently picked her up, and carried her in one hand as he went around to the Ark's front loading ramp, and entered the ship. With both sets of siblings following closely behind. A short walk soon brought them to the bridge, where Prime's officers were gathered, plus Majestrix and Blackshot, along with Thundercracker and Skywarp.

"So, you already chose you're 'human ambassador'" Blackshot deadpanned dryly, "Why am I not surprised it should be _this one?_" she glared down coldly at the brunette, who forced herself _not_ to shy away.

"Given the circumstances, I believe she is best suited to what may be required" Optimus stated matter-of-factly.

"If this _'survivor'_ turns out to be who you suspect it is: _we both know_ that no amount of diplomacy will sway him from his loyalties" Ironhide frowned as he folded his arms.

"Given our shared history, that may well be the case old friend," Prime nodded, "However: we will adhere to protocol, and go to investigate the Nemesis in greater detail"

"And then? What will we do if this 'survivor' turns out to be-, _him?_" Blackshot asked.

"We will return to base with him in our custody, offer medical treatment where needed, and confine him to the brig. Wheeljack informed me this morning that cells ten through seventeen are rebuilt and operational: I asked him to prepare one, and to have the security systems set to the highest mode possible" Optimus explained.

"...If it is who you think it is: we both know that won't be enough; not for _him_..." Blackshot frowned coldly at the Prime. Optimus was about to reply, when Majestrix beat him to it as she raised a hand to stop her SIC. "We don't know for sure it's him, _not yet..._" the Prima sternly told her, "Let us first confirm Crystalwing's findings: _and then_ decide what to do"

The black femme didn't reply, as she discreetly nodded in acknowledgment, and said nothing more. From where she sat in Prime's hand, Morri could sense the tension on the bridge, and couldn't get a feel for which way the situation might go (which only added to her uncomfortable sense of unease). Down on the floor, she saw how tense and anxious Ravage's brothers were, as they stood there silently, while Ravage himself stared intently up at the bots with a mix of bitter frustration and defeat. Crystalwing's children were just as anxious: though whether that was a knock-on effect from being around so much tense mental energy or their own worry was hard to fathom; but one thing was clear, this was _way more serious _than Morri had originally assumed it to be.

"Forgive my impertinence Optimus: but, if this 'survivor' is who you believe it is: then it would be foolish to-..." Ultra Magnas paused as he felt the drones staring up at him, "...Leave this to _a human_: as Ironhide pointed out, diplomacy is _not_ going to be an issue"

"Not to mention we're going on the word of one of _his_ own creations" Ironhide gestured to Ravage, "The issue of a possible double-cross cannot be left to chance"

Ravage looked like he wanted to bite back, but didn't, as he stood there fuming.

"Oh? And _we_ might not seize the chance?" Thundercracker deadpanned, "Why not put every defector in the bridge for good measure? Would _that _alleviate you're worries?"

"Look, _we get it_: we're ex-cons, we've not been bots long enough to prove our trust yet; so let's avoid the obvious moot point, okay?" Skywarp frowned as he folded his arms.

"That's where _I_ come in" Jetfire discreetly interjected

"Jetfire has volunteered to help oversee the matter, as far as _you_ and the rest of the defectors are concerned" Prime added, "Any problems arise: you are to speak to _him_, or to _me_: understand?" he gazed at Blackshot with a stern frown, the femme didn't say anything, but merely stared back with a cold defiant look in her optic.

"Listen, I am all too aware of the implications that could arise, if Ravage's 'psychic encounter' turns out to be true; I understand that, there will be many on this base that will not approve of my decision." Optimus addressed the bridge.

"To say that's an understatement is being kind, brother" Majestrix sighed

"True, but you can't say his reasons are totally beyond his nature" Alpha Trion spoke up, from where he had been standing in the far corner of the bridge. Everybody did a double take: where did he come from? How did he sneak in unnoticed? "As Autobots, we offer aid to _anyone _who needs it, friend _or_ foe: and in so doing, we set an example for all to follow. No one embraces that belief more than Optimus" he smiled as he approached group.

"Well? You finally decided to leave that crystal of yours and grace us with your presence?" Ironhide raised a skeptical optic-ridge.

"It's true; I've been quite busy these past few weeks: and I seldom get to walk the base, stretch my legs, and say hello to a few friendly faces. Forgive my intrusion, but I couldn't help but overhear: it sounds like quite a conundrum"

"Thank you _Mr. Obvious_" Majestrix deadpanned, "So what 'pearls of wisdom' would you offer? (And _don't_ pretend you don't know you sly old turbo-fox) You _always_ know what's going on"

"Hmm..." the ancient white mech pondered a moment as he stroked his metallic 'beard': "It's hard to say where we might go from here: there is still much of the past that haunts the present: and a reluctance to imagine anything otherwise; but I'd have to say, taking a risk might be more advantageous then you might want to believe otherwise..."

"Meaning?" Blackshot asked curtly

Alpha Trion turned to Optimus, and stated: "You chose to bring a human in to lend a different perspective, did you not?"

"Yes?" Prime replied, wondering where he was going with this,

"Play the odds: trust you're spark; trust _the younglings_ on this one..." the white mech patted him on the shoulder as he left the bridge; "Do let me know how it goes" he waved good bye. For a moment everyone just stood there in bewilderment, before Prowl asked offhand: "What was _that_ all about?"

"Hard to say? With him it's _always_ hard to say" Ironhide huffed

"His words may not always make sense, but he's seldom wrong" Optimus added

"Would it _really_ be too much to take him up on his advice?" Morri piped up, "After all: if it wasn't for him we'd have never have known about the Spark Eater and Dark Spark until it was too late. I'll admit his plan to save us was unconventional if not pretty extreme, but given the circumstances and everything that transpired as a result, it _was _the right call"

"True. But that was then: the situation we face now is _entirely _different..." Blackshot replied coldly as she leaned over to meet Morri's eye-level: "_If _Soundwave is still alive, we will be playing host to one of the most dangerous Decepticons in the history of the war; no other con was more loyal, more dedicated to Megatron than _he_ was. His legacy can only be measured by the sparks he has snuffed out, the warriors he has crippled, and the lives he has _decimated_. You would put your life: and lives of _every being_ on this base on the line, to try to communicate with _the one con_ whose _entire existence_ is dedicated to the eradication of our cause?"

Through the seriousness and detachment of her tone, Morri could hear the anger she was holding back; looking around the bridge, up at the bots who were gazing down at her: it was clear nobody was in favour of Prime's decision. The ghosts of the war were still hanging around in their silent disapproval and contempt: and as Morri racked her brain, she thought of the only answer that seemed to be the most relevant as to why Prime chose her in the first place.

"...As you said: that was then; we're talking about the situation _now..._" she explained matter-of-factly: swallowing her nervousness with the large lump in her throat as she stood up in Optimus's hand: "Look: I won't insult you by telling you I understand how you feel, because I _don't_. I wasn't around for all those thousands of years during the war: for all my imagination, _I don't know_ what you went through, or what you had to endure...But I _do_ know, Sam saw the end of it: and I've seen how one mech, who lost everything to the point he'd lost even himself, can realize that life doesn't stop at the end. And in a way, there _are_ no endings, just-, new beginnings. Like, what we've been trying to do here at NEST; isn't that the whole point we're all in this? To try and start over? ..."

Everyone but Optimus all exchanged uncertain glances.

"...You are wise beyond your year's youngling: and no one speaks with more care, understanding or truth than you..." Ultra Magnas sighed, "But you're naivety lends no experience to what you _believe_ you know: Soundwave is as merciless and cold-sparked as they come. Your pleas of mercy and reconcile will merely fall upon deaf audios if you choose to engage him"

"But what about Ravage and his brothers? If anybody has a chance of getting though to him, surly _they _will?" Morri pleaded as she gestured to the drones.

"An astute observation, but unfortunately, the drone's involvement in this matter will _not_ be a mandatory requirement" Blackshot stated.

"What?" Morri exclaimed, "How can they not be-

"Hush..." Prime gently cupped his other hand over her head to stop her, "I will let Ravage explain to you momentarily..." he told her in a hushed tone, before addressing the bridge. "We will ready the Ark to leave by tonight: Majestrix, you will remain here on base and see that the necessary preparations are made for our 'possible guest', Jetfire, you will assist. The rest of you, stay here and see to the pre-flight plans: I will be holding an emergency web-cam meeting with the Pentagon and Galloway to inform them of what has transpired. Dismissed"

As everyone attended to their stations, Prime was swift to leave the bridge with Ravage discreetly bringing up the rear; as the doors closed and he placed Morri down on the floor, the brunette was quick to keep him at her level by holding onto his thumb. "What the hell do you mean Ravage and his brothers won't be involved?!" she exclaimed incredulously, trying not to raise her voice. "They're the _perfect choice_ for engaging with Soundwave! Why the hell did you ask _me_ for the job in the first place?!"

"Because_ I_ made the recommendation" Ravage quickly interjected

Morri stared at him, "...What? ..."

"I have to go: meet me in the command center in twenty minutes" Prime told them before standing back up and striding down the corridor.

"I don't understand: why-

-Because, I can't compromise this; not for them, not for the humans; not for _anyone!_" he bluntly growled

"But I don't-," Morri calmed herself: "I don't understand what you mean"

"You remember what I told you? About the hive mind-type bonds that telepathic families share?"

It didn't take Morri a second to pet two and two together: "You think, if you let Soundwave back into your bond: that he's going to-

"-_It's a chance I can't take!-..._" he snapped, before trying to calm himself; "...This is _unprecedented_. I don't know what could happen: so I don't want to take any chances. I've discussed this with Prime _and_ Majestrix, and they both know what's at stake if my mind is compromised in any way. Which is why I've recommended you for the task of engaging my, _creator, _as ambassador for the humans and Autobots"

"But why me?" she frowned in confusion

"Once again, you're humble modesty begets you" he huffed wryly, "Like Ultra Magnas said: you are caring and understanding, and yet you do not mince words with the truth, nor are you afraid to back down from a challenge...I've known Soundwave my _entire life_, and if there's one thing he never dismissed, it was truth. You're merciful nature may not appeal to him, but you're logic might persuade him to _at least_ listen"

"...Ravage: is he really as bad as all that?" she asked desperately, unsure whether the answer would be the one she was expecting: never the less, the expectation still made her spine run cold.

Ravage paused a moment as he read the ripples of anxiety and uncertainty flittering through the forefront of her mind, and at the same time, that unfathomable force of instinct that told her not to run; he had to admit, for a human facing the uncertain, she held her ground well. "...You know? I sort of, 'overheard', what happened in the lab earlier..." he said offhand

"You did?" she blinked in surprise

"Well, when you're literally stretching your mind over a million miles into outer space: you're going to pick up 'other things' too" he smirked, "Quiet a surprise, was it not?"

Surprise: being the emphasis..." Morri couldn't help but smile: somehow, that phrase seemed to keep cropping up for her: "Sam's already made up his mind to go back on his 'genealogy' project and try to find out why he's only just learnt about it now"

"What about you? Finding out you share formatting data with a friend isn't something that happens every day"

"I'm _curious _for sure: and yes; I-, perhaps like to know what happened too...But-"

"My creator; of course"

"If Soundwave _is_ alive, things are going to get tense around here" Morri sighed

"_That_, doesn't even cover _half_ of what will happen when everyone finds out" Ravage stated

"What do you mean?" Morri frowned

Ravage paused a moment, as he considered his words carefully: "...You've heard many story's of my creator: many different versions from the many different bots that have encountered him over the eons. But few have seldom known the truth of what he _really_ was; _who_ he was, _to us..._" he explained, his voice shaking ever so slightly, "...We don't talk about it; because everyone (save you're species) knows all too well what happened between them and us. Together, we've taken Autobot lives _and worse_; and in turn they repaid every slight and death in kind. They know that, _we all endured it_, and I don't insult them by reminding them of those darker days... There's too much history between us, to allow _that _level of trust in dealing with _this_. So rather than arguing and letting it become a moot stalemate, I am saving everyone the trouble of speculating on my loyalties, and letting someone else handle the situation"

But-, he's you're creator; _you're dad_. You're really willing to-

"PLEASE!-" the panther snapped: he paused and hung his head as he turned away: "...Don't make this more difficult than it already is" he added quietly as he walked away.

"But-, what if he asks for you? ..." Morri called over

Ravage stopped but didn't turn, he just stood there: resigned to his choice, regardless of the heaviness and pain it was creating within his spark chamber; he didn't reply, and simply carried on. Leaving Morri standing there, unable to comprehend what just happened.

* * *

Sometime later in the rec-room:

This was probably the first time a long while the rec-room had been this quiet: save for one of the cooks mopping the floor in the human mess area, and Beachcomber catching a quick forty winks over in the far corner by the bot-sized plasma TV, no one else was around.

Though it was a relief not to have Velocity's shadow looming over her head: Velocity was _the least_ of Morri's concerns right now. As she stared down into her tea, watching the steam vapors rise and dissipate into the air; she kept thinking about Ravage, and what he said earlier. On the one hand it made no sense, it's not every day you're father returns back from the dead (if that really was the case), she knew if it were _her_ father, she'd move heaven and earth to be with him, and to hell with whatever consequences it might incur. But then, that was the nature of her _human_ nature: and though they were like the humans on so many levels, the cybertronians were _not_ human, and that's where part of the confliction seemed to lie therein.

The fact that Soundwave was a telepath was a consideration, and maybe, it _could _be possible that if he were to reunite with Ravage and his siblings in their bond, he could compromise their minds in some way; but Ravage was hardly weak willed or weak of mind: surly he could hold his own against his father?

But then, _would he want to? _

She couldn't forget the faces of the other bots aboard the Ark's bridge: she understood now that their concern was just as much for Ravage and his brothers, as much as facing the prospect of holding Soundwave captive if he ever came to the base. It was a double-edged sword: on one side, the memories of the past and the war were not in Ravages favor, and would serve to create tension within the ranks. And on the other side; _if_, by some miraculous happy turn of good luck, Soundwave wanted to defect and join the bots: likewise, their shared history wouldn't work in his favor either...

But then, it's not like the bots _hadn't_ been through this before: after all, Thundercracker and Skywarp defected, and by all accounts, they were the most loyal of Megatron's seekers (with the exception of Starscream). Jetfire too was once a formidable Decepticon seeker, and practically half the 9 served alongside the Decepticons as double agents and spies. Was it possible Prime's officers are overreacting just a tad? Or was Soundwave really as dark and evil as they believe him to be?

Morri felt both naive and simple-minded for not having witnessed the war first-hand and possessing the knowledge that they do: but then, what human mind could possibly endure _that _level of death and carnage for _that _long? The level of anarchy was incomprehensible to her, and her mind quickly contemplated another possibility. What if it's not Soundwave? What if this 'survivor' that Crystalwing has found is someone else altogether? If it even is a survivor? For all anyone knew, Prime and the others could be heading right into a Decepticon trap.

"May I join you?" Prime asked: Morri was so deep in thought she almost didn't hear him.

"Huh? Oh, yeah: sure..." she gestured to the bot-sized chair: gulping down her tea and climbing up onto the bot-sized table to join him; as Prime settled down with his energon cube in hand. She sighed, and blurted out the first question that had stumped her since their impromptu meeting on the Ark earlier: "... Optimus, did Ravage _really_ ask you not to let him become involved if Soundwave _does_ turn out to be alive?"

"After Crystalwing and Ravage informed me of their 'psychic experience': Ravage took me aside and told me what he told you: despite our personal feelings on the matter: we both agreed that letting him and his brothers become involved would look 'suspect' in the optics of others" Optimus explained before taking a sip of his cube.

Morri stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, before asking: "Wait-, he just-, _told you_ without skipping a beat, just like that?"

Prime sat there a moment, silently considering his choice of words, before explaining: "...Morri: I've encountered _countless_ Decepticons in my time, and of _all of them_ (with the exception of Megatron) none had done more to unravel and destroy our plans and strategies than Soundwave; no other con could do so much, with such little effort. His mercilessness was only matched by the brilliance of his logic and manipulation of information: and on one level, I always admired his prowess as a tactician in that one sense...When Ravage first came to earth and informed us of his demise, I was so shocked as to hardly believe it (and it wouldn't be the first time Soundwave had faked his own death to evade us, or his more traitorous contemporaries); but over time, as I watched him acclimatize to becoming an Autobot, I began to realize, that perhaps? He might have been telling the truth. But when Thundercracker and Skywarp arrived on earth with Elita-1's team, and told us what had happened aboard the Nemesis: I took the chance and chose to believe them. Now it seems, that choice was the right call to make"

"But no one should _ever_ have to endure being separated from their family just to save face with everyone else" Morri pleaded, "_That's_ the moral decay of the past, not the Autobot cause"

"I have no doubt, that with patience and openness of mind and spark, the walls between our factions will slowly melt away (and it will happen sooner or later, whether some of us like it or not). But it needs _time_ youngling: time-, that may stretch too far beyond you're natural life-span" Prime sighed ruefully. "...And time allowance for reconciling past misdeeds is not the only reason: _If_ Soundwave is alive, the reestablishment of his telepathic bond to his creations could be unpredictable. There's no way of knowing if Ravage could resist him, or submit to him completely: and if Soundwave is able to extend his will through the subliminal manipulation of his creations; then..."

As Morri painfully acknowledged the reality of that possibility, she dropped her gaze: "...I just don't want to see Ravage have to bury his heart..."

Optimus gently cupped his hand around her, and softly stroked her back with his thumb: "Truly, your spark is as big as it is deep youngling...I don't know what will happen once we reach the Nemesis, but whatever awaits us up there, we will found out, one way or another"

"...Tell me, _if_ Soundwave is alive and you bring him back: will Ravage and his brothers be allowed to visit him in the brig?"

"We will cross whatever bridges need to be crossed: but you have to keep in mind: Ravage asked me _not_ to allow him to participate in this affair: at least, until we know exactly what's going on; this was _his _choice, and I made sure everyone, including Blackshot, was aware of it too" Prime explained

Morri wasn't too sure if letting Blackshot know about this particular matter was a good idea or not, but as she acknowledged Prime's words, she was still left with a feeling of uncertainty: "...What are _your_ feelings on this? Be honest with me" she pleaded.

Prime paused, and thought about it carefully as he searched his mind and spark: "...I'd be lying if I said I'm okay with this...But at the same time: I _have_ to keep hope. After all, we have defectors within our ranks already, it's not impossible that Soundwave could see the illogic in continuing the fight"

"Yeah..." Morri sighed offhand; the question of what would happen if peace didn't appeal to Soundwave crossed Morri's mind, she was about to ask: when she suddenly remembered the reason Ravage chose her: compared to the other bots, she was one of the few optimists who was willing to speak on his creator's behalf (come what may). And so, decided to keep the question for such a time when it might be warranted: if she was the hopeful optimist in all this, she had to have the attitude to back her position up: "...Yeah, it's a possibility" she nodded affirmatively. "...One other thing" she suddenly remembered, "What Crystalwing said before: about Soundwave being her mentor before the war: do you think she might have a chance of reaching through to him if I don't succeed?"

"I already considered that possibility: and like with Ravage I discussed the scenario with Crystalwing at great length. And I'm afraid, with Shadowstar's 'emotional issues' still compromising her family's bond, it would be too risky for her to engage in _any_ telepathic communications with him. But I am hopeful she can provide support in other areas, and assist you in whatever you require to carry out you're assignment" Prime smiled.

The sound of raised voices and excited and fearful chatter suddenly filled the corridor outside the rec-room, as a whole crowd of bots and humans could be heard marching this way.

"What's going on?" Morri watched the doors, half expecting an angry mob to burst through at any moment.

"I suspect they have just been informed by Majestrix, of Crystalwing's discovery..." Prime replied, as he leaned in closer to whisper; "Listen, do not mention Soundwave's name, until we can confirm that the 'survivor' really is _him_"

"Yeah, definitely..." Morri shook her head in agreement: creating unnecessary panic wouldn't do anyone any favors. At that moment, the doors to the rec-room slid open, and the guardians and their human charges, along with half the other bots stormed in, loudly demanding to know what had just happened and why they weren't informed about it.

"SILENCE!" Prime bellowed: raising one hand, and silencing the crowd in an instance; "Now: one question at a time..." he added in a cool tone.

* * *

Later that night:

The cover of darkness and the remoteness of NEST base served well in keeping the Ark's launch unnoticed. The trip was not as long as one would expect, but then, with Crystalwing relaying her coordinates, the Ark had made a beeline to its destination with very little difficulty. But still, even with the Ark's capability to open up small-scale wormholes and shorten the journey to within a sixth of the distance they'd have to travel by conventional means; it still took over an hour before the ship was able to get into orbit above Mars, and safely come up alongside the Nemesis.

As they watched the dark gigantic hulk come into view on the bridge, the seekers found themselves reliving their last moments aboard the dead vessel.

"...I never thought I'd see that Primus-forsaken ship again" Thundercracker bitterly sighed

"Ditto" Skywarp nodded anxiously

"Get your game faces on you two, you're both up" Jazz patted them on the wings as they got up from their seats: "Just don't fall behind" Thundercracker deadpanned

"Don't _you_ get any smart ideas" Ironhide frowned

The boarding party made its way to the airlock: Optimus, along with Ironhide, Jazz, Ultra Magnas, Jetfire, and the two seekers, stood in a circle, and waited as Skywarp charged up his teleportation matrix: "Heh, you know it's funny, both of us with you guys, storming the Ark _together_. Never thought I'd live to see that eh?"

"Just get us over there" Ironhide grumbled

"Uh, right: I'm going to put us in the central level, just above the engineering deck, within range of the bridge" Skywarp replied nervously

"Acknowledged: teleport and proceed" Prime ordered, and in a thunderous flash of white light, they were gone.

A split second later, they reappeared aboard the Nemesis: the violent rush of air molecules from the teleportation sequence kicked up a cloud of grey dust from up off the floor, and shrouded the boarding party in a thick mist that covered their armor: blotting out the colours of their painted plates.

"Wow, don't remember the ship being this dirty!" Skywarp coughed as he tried to clear the dust from out of his vents, "(not when we abandoned it at least)"

"Okay, now what?" Jazz shrugged: Thundercracker looked around, and spotted a computer-terminal panel on the nearby wall. Approaching it, a small section of platelet's on his forearm opened up and a series of small wires snaked their way out, and connected to the terminals various jack-ports. His optics glazed over for a moment, as he tried and failed to connect to the Nemesis's central mainframe.

"Well? What surprises have you managed to disarm?" Ironhide grunted

"None, the ship's energon supply is completely drained" Thundercracker blinked in surprise, "And the reserves are empty too. There's no power _anywhere_ aboard the ship"

"So how come we're not freezing to death or having our pipes and wires sucked out by the vacuum of space?" Ultra Magnas raised an optical ridge

"My guess: the air-locks must have sealed off the central levels and the bridge before the life-support systems ran out of energon; where we're standing now, is the _only_ viable area of the ship safe to stand in" the blue and white seeker replied

"On the plus side: we won't have any old booby traps to disarm, eh?" Skywarp offered

"Let us proceed with the mission objective..." Prime stated before switching his comm on: **:Crystalwing, do you copy? Over: **

**: Receiving you loud and clear Prime: **the femme replied

**: Tell us, what can you sense? :** he asked

**: It's hard to describe **_**exactly**_**, but I've been sensing a 'presence' of some kind: somewhere in the vicinity of the bridge:** she stated

**: Understood, continue to monitor all frequencies, and scan for any signs of suspicious activity:**

**: Acknowledged: **

"Well? To the bridge it is then..." Skywarp shrugged as he took point, only to have Ironhide and Ultra Magnas pull him back as they decided to take the lead (just in case). With Prime and the others charging up their weapons and assuming their positions.

As if the ship hadn't been harrowing enough in life, in death, the absolute silence of its lifeless engines and systems seemed to heighten the sense of dread and fear. As their footsteps echoed far down the corridors, and their shadows seemed to move along the walls in such a way as if they were alive, the bots couldn't help but be extra vigilant. This _had_ been Megatron's base of operations after all, if the possibility of an ambush by the living wasn't daunting enough, it couldn't be entirely impossible that the dead might want to come out to rattle their chains?

"Man, this place is puttin' out some _uber_ creepy-pasta vibes" Jazz whispered,

"I have to say: it's a little unnerving. I've _never _known the Nemesis to be entirely without power. Even in the wake of Tyger Pax and the main thrusters were completely shot, we _still _managed to limp away..." Thundercracker replied, "...Starscream must've stayed behind to finish the job after he activated the ship's self-destruct mode"

"What I don't get, is why the ship is still intact like this? And if the energon levels are completely gone, how come the ship didn't blow up?" Jetfire speculated aloud.

"If we have time, I'd like to retrieve the ships flight-data recorder from the central command terminal on the bridge" Thundercracker stated, "...I've got the feeling something isn't adding up here..."

"Understood: I'd like to know _exactly_ what happened here too..." Prime nodded.

"Here we are," Skywarp pointed to a large set of closed double doors, "the bridge"

"Last time we stormed this ship, I got a face full of plasma-fire when I pried these doors open" Ironhide grumbled.

"The power's completely out, remember? That 'particular surprise' will not work now; it's just a case of opening the doors" Thundercracker replied

"Then by all means, do lead the way" Ultra Magnas gestured.

Thundercracker shot him a look, but didn't argue as he placed his claws between the doors, and pried them open with all his might. The mechanisms that would've opened and closed the doors ground and creaked under the strain, while flecks of rust and dust dislodged from the frame and fell to the floor like snowflakes and drizzle. Finally, when the doors were open all the way, and locked into place with a loud booming CLANG! The bots all cautiously peered into the dark chamber, and scanned around for any sign of movement. Satisfied there were no 'surprises' Prime, Ironhide, Ultra Magnas and Jazz switched on their headlights...

...And were nearly taken aback at the sight before them...

Littered about the floor, and strewn about the consoles were several bodies: all Decepticons, all offline, all baring the tell-tale signs of a battle lost. The bridge was peppered with bullet holes, scorch-marks, and dried energon splatter with several of the consoles looked like they had been pulled out with great force.

"...Primus..." Jazz breathed in amazement

"Still think we're making it up?" Thundercracker frowned

"It would appear, I stand corrected" Ultra Magnas reluctantly admitted

"Hm!-" Ironhide huffed, too proud and stubborn to admit he was wrong in his assumptions of the defectors.

"...If there were any survivors, their _long gone_ now..." Jetfire sighed in regret.

Stepping over to the central consoles, Thundercracker moved some of the debris and bodies aside, and as he scanned over the computers and other machinery, he clenched his fist, "No!" he hissed.

"What is wrong?" Prime asked

"The flight-data recorder: it's gone!" the seeker pointed to the slot in the side of the console

"Starscream must've taken it" Skywarp realized, "He was the only one left alive after _we_ got away: and the drones jumped ship _twenty minutes_ before he blew it up; there's no one else who could've taken it"

"But I don't understand: if Starscream wanted the ship blown up, why did he take the recorder beforehand?" Jetfire frowned

As the bots speculated among themselves on what may have happened and why, Thundercracker continued searching the remains of the console for anything that might still be useable; but it was no use. Just about every inch of the systems was shot up or half-melted: it was no use to anyone. As Thundercracker stepped around the console and approached the central navigation terminal (the one right next to Megatron's throne), something in the dark corner of the bridge caught his optic...

...As he stared at the strange dark thing, he could make a tiny light of some kind, emanating from the center of it. As he slowly approached, he could see it was one of the fallen soldiers and a large one too. But as he studied the destroyed remains, he suddenly saw the light again, and it was flickering in what used to be the chest compartment. Quickly, he carefully pried open the chest plates, and nearly gasped at what he saw...

A Spark

Faint and dying like a flame in the wind: but it was holding on with everything it had left...

"HEY! We got a survivor here!" Thundercracker called over. Within less than a second the bots were at his side, scanning the survivor up and down with their scanners set to their highest settings.

"He's in bad shape: we need to get him aboard the Ark if he's to have any chance of survival" Jetfire stated.

"Who is he?" Jazz thought aloud as he helped the others carefully lift him up off the floor, helping to support his enormous bulk...

As they turned to head out the door, the survivor's head rolled to one side: and they all caught sight of his face: but it was only when they noticed the shattered red visor across his optics, that they realized _who_ it was...

"..._Primus_..." Ironhide breathed in disbelief.

**: Optimus Prime to Ratchet, do you copy? Over: **

**: Right here Prime :**

**: Ready the Ark's med-bay **_**immediately**_**, and have the ship's security primed to code red. We have one confirmed survivor...Its Soundwave...:**

* * *

**So, he has been found at last :D **

**Sorry it's taken so long, but AAAUUGH! It's not even July yet and the summer's been keeping me on my feet and working my ass off to enjoy every moment of sunshine-filled weather: not to mention we've had a whole hoard of relations and old close friends down to say hi, eating us out of house and home! **

**Anyway, my skin is well tanned and burnt to a crisp now, so while the Aloe does its thing (plus there's rain forecast for Friday) I can make a start on chapter three :) This chapter is doubly longer than usual, as there was a lot of key plot elements I wanted all in one place. **

**Hope you enjoyed, and much love to you all! :D  
**


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